Max and Fang, Flock of Two
by NightSoaringAngel
Summary: Maximum Ride comes home to find the house in wreckage and her room destroyed, filled with traces of black and blonde feathers. What happened? Where is everybody? When Max finds Fang gravely injured, she realizes that he and she are all that remains of the Flock. Will Fang and Max find the rest of the gang? Even more importantly… does Fang have feelings for Max?
1. Chapter 1

"You have got to be freaking kidding me."

Maximum Ride stared in disbelief at the mess in the kitchen. Busted bags of potato chips were strewn all across the floor and the dining table, mingling with the splattered red swathes of salsa. As she mentally tracked the trajectory of the salsa splash, she craned her head upwards.

"Oh my god. That does it. _GAZZY, __**WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"**_ she shrieked. "_**I PUT YOU IN CHARGE OF THE **__**KITCHEN**__**, AND **__**THIS**__** IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?**_"

Max glared at the gaping hole in the ceiling. What freaked her out was the fact that her actual _bedroom_ was located _right above the flipping hole._

A drip of salsa fell from the gaping hole, and Max utterly lost it. With a fiery shriek of rage she turned, sprinted across the living room, and vaulted up the stairs. A sinister scene greeted her when she charged into her room, and she froze, her mouth gaping in horror.

It was as if a tornado had ripped through the place. Her bedframe lay toppled over in the middle of the floor. The gaping hole on the far side of the room was splintered with the roughly-cracked edges of her nicely polished floorboards. And her laptop computer... lay in _two pieces..._ on the... floor...

Max dropped to her knees and moaned. "NOOOO not my laptop no my laptop no this can't be happening my laptop my freaking laptop oh my... g_od..._ oh_ my god_..." She stood up.

In the dim evening light filtering through the curtains she had almost missed it. But there is was, plain as daylight. Feathers. They were strewn over the wreckaged scene, filling the cracks in the floorboard, pasted to the ceiling and walls, and lightly covering the overturned bed. Her heart plummeted, and she felt a chill creep over her spine.

_Have they been _fighting_ again?_ She reached down and picked a feather off the floor. She automatically reached for the light switch, but when she flicked it, nothing happened. A quick glance upwards told her that the light had shattered. _Oh no. This is not good, not good at all._ She grabbed a handful of feathers and raced to the stairway.

She glanced at the handful of feathers in the light and confirmed her deepest fears. _Silky black and lightest blonde. Why? Why would they do this..._ Without thinking further, she wrenched open the stairway window, punched out the screen, and launched herself outside.

The cool night air caressed her cheeks as she surged towards the heavens. The light was fading from the sky now; the puffy battalions of glowing pink and orange clouds added a peaceful touch to the scene. Max ignored her growing panick and fought the air, urging herself to go higher, higher. She didn't care if people saw her. She didn't care if they took photos or called the cops. The only thing she cared about right now was finding Fang and Dylan. And for that matter, where the hell were Gazzy and the rest of the crew?

The forest dropped down below her until the trees were nothing but tiny specks of darkening green. The clouds above her steadily grew in size. Their pink-and-orange hue had already shifted into the subtler shades of purple and scarlet. _Why would they do this to me? WHY?_ she raged. _I do EVERYTHING for them, and they repay me with this?_ She whirled around in the air and hovered, scanning the surrounding skies and the darkening forest below.

The forest was dark already. It held no glimmering lights, so there was nothing that indicated that the gang was camping out there. She shifted slightly and scrutinized the field and the meadow. Again, no lights. She could dimly make out the form of the ratty old car parked by the side of the house, but the car had broken down recently and nobody would be hiding out there.

Whoosh-shka, whoosh-shka, whoo-osh-shka... her steady wingbeats filled the silent void. Her breath fogged the air. Why would they do this to her? Dylan and Fang she could understand. But why would they fight like that? With such viciousness and violence? Something else must have happened...

The night air bit into her skin, filling her bones with a creaking weariness. _Where the heck are they?_ she wondered. The tiny broken-down garage was dark and silent. With a sudden shock she knew that something must be there. It was just a feeling, and it was a creepy feeling. But she had to check the place out. Something about it was just not right...

She gave a powerful surge with her wings and dove towards the darkened building. The air whistled past her ears and hair, causing her eyes to water with tears. When she was close enough to the building to see the cracked and gaping roof of the place, she slowed down and circled overhead. Nothing seemed amiss, and she lightly landed on top of the place, just far enough from the largest gap. From here she could escape quickly if the need arose.

She knelt and slowly, carefully, crept over to the edge of the gap and looked down.

What she saw made her scream.

Without thinking, she dove through the ragged edges of the roof and crashed heavily into the pile of hay, raining a shower of roof fragments upon the bloody figure curled on its side. It moaned weakly and attempted to turn on its side. A spasm of pain seized it and caused it to curl up again, twitching slightly.

"Fang," she breathed. Fear gripped her chest, and she quickly glanced around the room. Nobody else was here.

"Fang, it's alright," she said soothingly, although her heart was pounding from shock. "It's me, Max," she said as she slowly approached him. "Can you hear me? It's Max... "

The figure stirred slightly. "Max," it whispered.

"Don't move, you'll be alright," she said. She reached his curled-up form and took a deep, frightened breath.

The sun had already set, but Max could see the state her Fang was in. She shivered from shock.

His torn and bloodied wings were lacerated with a series of bloody gashes. Long, weeping scratches seeped through his violently ripped white t-shirt, and a frightening pool of blood lay glistening by the side of his belly. Matted clumps of feathers stuck to his wounds. As if to frighten her more, a series of violent twitches seized his body, and she saw his jaw muscles tighten in agony.

"Fang..." she mouthed.

He was way too injured to move. There was no other option... she would have to treat him here, in the ratty old broken-down garage with the musty piles of hay. She had no other choice... and if she didn't act soon... she shuddered as he uttered a strained cry. "_Fang I'll be right back,"_ she shrieked, and crashed out the door, sprinting towards the house.

She wrenched the back door open and raced through the living room and up the stairs. She took a sharp right in the hallway and smashed open the bathroom door. She frantically wrenched open the cupboard and grabbed handfuls of medicine.

_Need something to carry this_ _in..._ she tore through the hallway, her arms full of bottles of medicine, rolls of bandages, and packets of painkillers. She did a sharp left and entered Angel's tiny room, where she threw the supplies onto the bed and ripped the pillowcase off the pillow. With one sweep she forced the medicines into the pillowcase and raced back to the bathroom, where she quickly cleaned off the shelves. _Hydrogen peroxide,_ she muttered, _emergency aid pack, cotton ball bag, antibacterial gels..._

When everything had been collected she raced to the still-open window at the stairway and dove out, clutching the pillowcase in both hands. The fierce chill of the incoming night bit her nose and ears. She ignored the pain and reached the garage in fifteen wingbeats and crashed through the roof again.

She landed heavily in the haypile and crawled to Fang, who lay at the edge of the heap of hay. She arranged the bottles and packages of supplies on the dirty floor, being careful to avoid to puddle of blood from Fang's belly. When all the bottles and packages had been placed, she tossed aside the pillowcase and ripped open the emergency first-aid pack.

In less than fifteen seconds, the cheap electric lantern was lit and the three flashlights were switched on and arrayed on the floor. Max grabbed the smallest flashlight and jammed the handle between her teeth, then swung over to Fang.

He already seemed paler and less-awake. Max pulled on a pair of plastic gloves and gently felt along Fang's spine and the base of his neck.

"Max..." he whispered. "Check... my stomach..."

Max gritted her teeth tighter around the flashlight and leaned forward, trying to shine the light behind the crook of his arm. The pool of blood glinted ominously in the lamplight.

"Fang, you can talk. I am going to move you a bit more on your side, okay? If it is too much, then tell me, okay?" Max spit out the flashlight and knelt in front of Fang's curled-up belly. "You hear me?" Max's heart pounded. "Ready? One... two... th-"

"AaaaAAa-aAAGHHH!"

His agony made her heart freeze solid like ice. But Max knew they couldn't call the ambulance. Ever since the Erasers had infiltrated the government, they couldn't trust anybody. Not even the doctors or surgeons. And yet, in the face of Fang's rippingly painful and horrible agony, her heart was wavering...

With effort she managed to get him on his back. "It's alright, Fang, I'm here, you'll be alright..." her voice trailed off at the sight before her eyes.

Fang's stomach had a gooey, oozing, bloody red stab mark right on the upper left side of his belly-button.

Max gulped. "Fang," she said slowly, "We are making a trip to the ER room."


	2. Chapter 2

Max dialed 911.

Her cell phone was a thing of beauty: Light blue, shiny, covered with stickers from Nudge and Angel. This was, she reflected, probably the first and last time she would actually use it. Members of the Flock were banned from using their cell phones except in cases of complete emergency. And this, she thought as she reflected further, was one of the biggest goddamn emergencies she had experienced to-date. And her cell phone was losing reception.

With a wild cry she launched herself up through the roof of the garage and madly rowed her wings. She rapidly spiraled up towards the drifting clouds, and the night air caressed her hair with its chilly bite. _Why the hell is this NOT WORKING?_ she raged. She dialed 911 again, and the dreaded words "no reception" flashed again across the screen. _You are f***ng, f***ng kidding me._ Max gave a final burst of energy and halted, chest heaving with exertion. Her breath froze, casting tiny sparkling clouds in the air.

The words flashed across the screen again, and Max held back the urge to scream.

Max shut her eyes and opened them slowly. Her lashes seemed heavy and stiff, and she realized they were frozen. _This is totally not cool,_ she thought to herself. _Totally, totally _not_ cool._ She scanned the dark landscape below and spotted a blinking light. _That could be a cellphone tower,_ she reflected. _Or it could be a radio tower. So should I...?_ She twisted her body in the air and gazed down at the tiny speck that was the garage; then she twisted again and squinted at the glinting tower. _No good, it's too far,_ she thought. This meant she had just one choice.

She had to haul Fang to the hospital herself.

She winced at the thought, then gritted her teeth and dove towards the garage. It was too dangerous; there was no way she was going to risk such a dangerous trip. Fang was easily a hundred and twenty pounds; and compared to her paltry ninety-five, he was really, really heavy. It didn't help that the rest of the gang had abandoned them to their fate. Max growled and tucked her wings tighter, urging herself to go faster, faster.

She flared her wings and came to a halt on the top of the garage roof, and just as she was about to jump down onto the hay, something strange caught her eye.

It was a light of some sort. And it was coming from somewhere inside the broken-down sedan.

Weirder yet, the light was blinking.

Max squinted and peered at the far-off van. Yes, it was there. She could barely see it, and the light was _tiny_; but still, it was there. Something about that light creeped her out, and the urge to move Fang from the garage grew even stronger. Something just was not right...

She jumped into the garage and strode over to Fang. He looked like he was unconscious. "Fang?" Max said. She checked his pulse. It was there, a steady, strong beat. But that wound in his stomach looked nasty. Heck, the wounds sliced across his entire body looked nasty. _Shoot. I should have grabbed some bedspreads from the house..._ She glanced out the door towards the distant building, but something told her to get out of there, leave the place, and leave it fast.

_That blinking light... could it really be a bomb?_ she thought, fear flooding her stomach. _Izzy would not do that. So who did...? And why would Fang be left alone...?_ Max shook off the thought and shuddered.

_That blinking light..._

"Sorry Fang, I have no choice," Max said. She grabbed the pillowcase and quickly refilled it with the medicines, bandages, and flashlights. Then, holding the stuffed pillowcase between her teeth, she grabbed Fang under the armpits and walked backwards through the garage door. His head lolled from side to side, and she raised him up further so the back of his head rested on her stomach.

_Gosh, this is so freaking awkward,_ she thought.

Fang moaned slightly as his feet bumped against the gravelly and rocky road.

_Sorry buddy, but we gotta get out of here. And fast._

With a last glance at the weird blinking light in the sedan, Maximum Ride left the dirt road and walked backwards into the woods, dragging the unconscious and injured Fang with her.


	3. Chapter 3

The woods were filled with the sounds of chirping crickets. Damp leaves rustled underfoot as Max slowly and carefully dragged Fang over the leaf-covered forest floor. _Fang, hang in there, buddy,_ Max thought desperately. That creepy light in the van remained at the back of her mind. Iggy wouldn't fiddle around with blinking lights with his bombs. Something extremely weird was going on. The flock disappearing, the cell phone zoning out; there could only be one explanation to it all: Itex. All their troubles, in the end, were caused by the horrible Erasers and their malicious organization, Itex.

Max stumbled on a tree root and cursed under her breath. Even without the medicine-stuffed pillowcase, it was slow going. Max grunted and shifted her grip on Fang's upper arms. _This is ridiculous,_ she thought to herself.

Members of the Flock usually avoided walking through the densely-grown woods. The tree trunks made it impossible to stretch their wings and take flight, and there was always an ominous fear that the trees concealed gangs of Eraser assassins. In this particular set of circumstances, however, Max felt the woods was their safest point of escape. The chilly Autumn air had caused the trees to shed most of their leaves, and Max felt confident that she could fight on the ground. She sincerely hoped that wouldn't happen.

Max groaned and attempted to drag Fang over the side of a half-rotten log. _Unbelievable,_ she thought, _how the heck does this dude even manage to fly? He's got the bones of a blasted ox! _Max grunted and, with a final, desperate effort, managed to haul Fang's legs over the log. One of his shoes fell off. Eyeing Fang's oozing stab mark, Max stopped, gently lowered Fang's shoulders to the ground, and whipped her cellphone out of her pocket.

_You better work, you worthless piece of junk, _she thought, glaring at the phone. She pressed the green button and held her breath.

The phone came to life, and the words "Reception Level: Strong" scrolled across the screen.

"_Why didn't you work __**before?**_" Max hissed. She dialed 911 and clamped the phone against her ear, scanning the surroundings with a sharp eye. Fang mumbled something, then fell silent.

"Hello, this is 911," said a woman's voice.

"I need an ambulance," Max said quickly, eyeing Fang's gaping stab wound.

This call was going to cause _so_ many problems.

"Okay, where are you loca-ay-sshrrss-shhh-rrrrrrssshhhhh-"

There was a short pause, then silence. _Did this thing just die on me? _Max thought in disbelief. She stared at the screen with growing panic, then held it back up to her ear.

A faint crackling sounded over the speaker of the phone, followed by a rapid series of clicks and hisses.

Max pressed the phone against her ear and frowned.

"FF-Ff-frrrr-shhs-shhs-hhhkkk..."

_What the...?_ The phone buzzed in her hand. "Incoming Phone Call," said the words on the screen. Without her pushing any buttons, the screen blinked and the words "Call Accepted" scrolled across the screen.

Then the screen went black.

_This. Is. Creepy as Hell. _Max slowly raised the phone to her ear and listened.

A sharp "pop" sounded, then more static.

Suddenly, a voice spoke through the phone.

"Maximum Ride," said a stern man's voice over the speaker. There was a brief amount of static. "-sh-shshhh-crkshhhtshhhss-shss-ree-eee-eeep-W-We are coming to sshh_-_ you and -shhhrrshss-comply. Stay where you are and-shsshhhht-rrrtshhhtkkk-ssshhh..."

Max threw the phone as far as she could and fought the urge to turn and run. _Sh*t._ She had to fight. What did she have to fight with? There was nothing... Max looked around in a panick and, in complete desperation, cracked a branch off a nearby tree. She ripped off the twigs and side branches, and in less than ten seconds had a fairly decent club in her hands. The sharp edges where the twigs had snapped off could do some serious damage.

Max wondered if she should conceal Fang in leaves or something. _Hang on a minute_… What was that…_sound?..._

_Whoo-oosh-kaahhh. Whoo-oooh-shhka. Whooo-ooshka..._

Max crouched beside Fang and peered up through the trees. The moon was hidden by the drifting clouds, and she could barely make out patches of stars through the criss-crossed branches and twigs.

Suddenly, Max widened her eyes and stared.

A dark shadow had drifted over them.

_What th-_

_CRASH._

Max leapt to her feet and bared her teeth. Something had just ripped through the branches of a tree. She clutched the weighty branch in both hands and glared in the direction of the sound.

Something moved. It was high up in a tree located approximately ten trunks away from where she stood. Max narrowed her eyes and spotted a shadowy figure in the branches of a distant tree.

The thing shifted.

With a loud, crackling _snap_, the dark figure toppled through the branches of the far-off tree and landed with a muffled _thump_ just beyond a clump of tangled bushes. There was a rustling sound, and Max saw the dark, shadowy figure rise slowly from the bushes. With a shock, Max realized the thing had wings.

Tree trunks surrounded her, towering pillars that branched up into an impenetrable ceiling above. There was no choice; she would have to fight, on the ground, in order to protect Fang. Max gripped the branch tighter and stayed still, barely breathing.

The figure moved in the shadows, loping slowly past bushes and tree trunks. The thing stopped and appeared to bend down. It straightened up, and a tiny glowing screen hovered in front of it.

With a jolt, Max realized it was looking at her cell phone.

A faint breeze rustled the branches above, filling the air with the skeletal clattering of bare branches and clacking twigs.

Max stood stock still as the clouds drifted overhead, patterning the forest floor with shifting patterns of dim light. With a contemptuous flick of the wrist, the thing cast aside the cell phone and strode out of sight behind a thicket.

Max tightened her grip on the branch. Her heart was beating extremely fast, and her nerves buzzed with tension.

The figure emerged from the thicket and paused briefly before continuing. It took another step and stopped; then, with a smooth and fluid motion, it straightened up and stood, completely motionless.

_It's listening,_ Max thought with a shudder. _What is that creature? Some new creation of... Itex? _The thing was inhuman. Max glanced at Fang out of the corner of her eye. He was not looking good. His entire midriff was splattered with blood, and his stab wound was oozing steadily. Max returned her gaze to the ominous thing ahead.

The figure was still standing there, silent and forebodingly. A creepy image of a standing manniquin flashed through Max's mind, and she shuddered. She dared not move.

A cricket chirped by her foot, and Max ferociously bit her lip. She tasted blood, and glanced fearfully at Fang. She averted his eyes from his bloody stomach and glanced at his face.

His face was pale and streaked with sweat, and his ragged lips twitched repeatedly. With a jolt, Max realized Fang was going into shock. _Fang..._Max bit her lip and willed herself not to move. Her arms and shoulders were beginning to shake from the weight of the heavy branch.

The figure remained standing in the distance.

More crickets started to chirp. One by one, they joined in the chorus, and soon the entire forest floor was cloaked with their sound.

"Aagh," rasped Fang. Max sharply inhaled and readied herself. This was it. The fight to the death; it was here.

Fang's mouth twitched in agony.

The figure darted out of sight.

Suddenly, a spasm of pain wracked Fang's body, and he screamed out in pain.

"AAAa-aAAGH-GHHGHH!" Fang twisted, beating one of his wings and clutching his stomach in agony. A shower of leaves and dirt exploded into the air, showering Max and sending grit into her eyes. She cursed as tears filled her vision and temporarily blinded her. She squinted and saw the massive figure racing towards them.

"_YAHHH!" _Max leapt in front of Fang and swung the branch with all her might at the thing. The huge figure swerved right in front of her and ricocheted off the side of a tree, sending a huge chunk of bark flying through the air. Eyes streaming, Max followed the massive creature's trajectory and watched as skidded to a halt less than five feet away from them.

"You bastard," snarled Max, blinking forcefully at the blurry figure looming in front of them. The figure remained motionless, and Max dimly wondered why it wasn't attacking them. It probably wanted a fair fight; that would be more fun for it, anyway. Those freakish Itex monsters were all sadistic freaks. Max's vision finally cleared and her mouth widened in shock.

A tall, intimidating figure stood in front of them. It was a man, tall and powerfully built. His face had the appearance of chiseled steel, with bushy, angular eyebrows and fierce, angry eyes that sparked with a hidden intensity. He was wearing dark jeans and a black t-shirt. Max's arms shook, and she stepped forward, protectively shielding Fang's twisted body. "You're an Avian," she said, voice quivering. She gripped the branch.

The man had wings. And they were huge. Even though they were tightly folded against the man's back, they loomed over him, sparking and glinting with hints of shadowy gold. As Max stared, a dim image of a surfer dude hauling surfboards came to mind. This man looked like a surfer dude. With two huge surfboards strapped to his back.

Max dropped to her knees. This was too much, way too much. What was happening? Who was this man?Why would Itex bother to create more Avians?

"Maximum Ride!" boomed the man, glaring angrily. He crossed his arms and cocked his head slightly to the right. "You are Maximum Ride, that is correct?"

Max nodded weakly. The shifting clouds briefly uncovered the moon, sending a patch of light dancing across Fang's fallen body.

The man sighed deeply, then uncrossed his arms and strode towards them. Max stiffened and leapt to her feet. The man continued to approach, his eyes fixed upon Fang's bloody stomach. Max narrowed her eyes. "You're not getting near him," she said loudly.

The man continued to approach them. His long strides gracefully carried him over the leafy ground.

"You are insane_,"_ Max spat, her wings shaking with fear and anger. She stepped forward confrontationally. "Are you deaf? _YOU ARE __**NOT **__GETTING NEAR HIM!" _Max tensed her muscles and flattened her wings. Her heart felt like it was going to break out of her rib cage. She could barely breathe. And still, the huge and menacing figure strode towards them, with the tips of his folded wings rustling and scraping the twigs and branches of the tree above. _What should I do? _Max thought, frantically scanning the surrounding forest. No ideas came to mind.

The man seemed to be alone. _What is Itex thinking? _Max tensed her muscles and prepared to attack.

With a sudden stop, the man halted and dug in his pocket. "Stand easy, Maximum Ride," he muttered. Max realized that the Avian had a strong Russian accent. She stared in disbelief as the dude rummaged through his right jeans pocket. He threw a cellphone and a keychain with keys on the forest floor, then frowned and began searching his other pocket. His looming wings shaded his face from the faint moonlight, casting it into deep shadow.

Max gritted her teeth; she had made her decision. As the man tossed a handful of glinting cylinders next to the cellphone and keys, Max dropped the branch and leapt at the man with all her strength. As she shot towards him through the air, she saw him widen his eyes and open his mouth as if it were slow motion. Then, suddenly and without warning, the Avian darted out of Max's line of sight._ Missed him,_ Max thought, her mind churning with disbelief. Max quickly twisted to her side and plowed into the dirt. Her right elbow smashed into a root, shooting a sharp spike of pain up her arm. _Ouch._

Less than a split second later, a heavy boot ground into the hollow behind her wing socket, crushing her body into the moist soil. The soggy earth and rotting leaves filled her nostrils, and Max gagged. She twisted around, spitting dirt from her mouth, and eyed the spot where the man's kneecap should be. With a coldly-calculated aim, she kicked out, hard.

Her shoe connected with something solid, and a resounding _crack _echoed through the forest. _I bet that hurt, _Max thought grimly. She leapt to her feet.

A blinding burst of light blasted across the back of her eyes as something crashed against the side of her head. She blinked, stunned.

Something tickled the back of her neck. A faint click sounded.

Almost instantly, a searing explosion of pain tore across the side of her throat. A wave of nausea rushed over her as a second flash of pain splintered across her left wing. The world went silent and seemed to spin through space. Max stared as the leaves of forest floor rushed up to her. A third wave of pain, sharper than the others, lanced across the bridge of her nose as her face plunged into the leafy debris. _Fang, _she thought weakly….

She attempted to move but discovered that she couldn't; she was paralyzed.

The ground reverberated dully with approaching footsteps. A strong hand gently lifted her head out of the dirt and turned it to the side so she could breathe. She gasped and fought the sleepy sensation creeping through her mind.

_Fang, I... I tried. _Her heavy eyelids slowly, inexorably, closed shut.

"Maximum Ride," boomed the voice slowly. It sounded distant and warped, as though it had traveled a long distance through choppy water. "I am not Itex. Do not fear." The sound flipped and twisted, distorting the voice, sounding like the shrieking cries of a gargoyle from a distant world.

_Who are you? _she thought faintly. _Who... who sent you...here...?_

_I am Dominic Erann-Ivanovich,_ the voice said in her mind_. It is a pleasure to meet you, Maximum Ride._

Splashes of light burst across the backs of Max's eyelids as fierce slashes of pain shot from her wings and neck. Max felt her body growing lighter, lighter. She summoned the last of her consciousness and formed a tiny, diluted thought. Her face tingled and her body grew weaker.

_Who sent you?_ she thought again as spears of pain poked through her ribcage and wingbones. Her breath grew shallow and harsh, and she struggled to gasp for air. She felt like she was sinking; drowning.

There was a pause. Then:

_I was sent... by..._

With a final gasp, Maximum Ride succumbed to the ocean of weariness coursing through her body. As she sank into the fathomless depths, she heard the voice in her head spoke one final word.

_...Vortex..._

After that... darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

_Running. She was running through the sunlight._

_In the distance, Dylan was stretched out on the lawn, bleaching his wings. Long, dark-brown, luxuriant feathers, glistening in the sunlight with a beautiful sheen._

_He was asleep. His strong, handsome face looked unbearably innocent in the baking noon sun. The faint scent of lemon juice drifted on the breeze, stirring the vibrant grass and rustling the trees in the distance._

_Leaning in closer, admiring the colorful feathers..._

_Each feather was unique, a swirl of burnt sienna, dark ochre, sandy tan. They cascaded down from the tops of his shoulderblades, increasing in size. The smallest ones lightly feathered the back of his neck._

_A handful of squeezed lemons lay on the grass beside him._

_Why does he bleach his feathers like that? ...Why doesn't he understand?_

_He is Beautiful..._

Confusion, flashing lights. Strained cries and yells, a series of loud popping noises. A sharp pain at the side of the neck and lower wing. Then silence...

_She was soaring, pumping her wings, racing Nudge and Angel to the dreamy, puffy clouds drifting over their newfound home. Angel zooming up ahead. Laughter and shrieks as Nudge passes them both. Entering the cloud's colossal shade and gazing up in reverence at its huge, weightless mass._

_Soaring higher, higher. The air gradually growing damper and heavier. The landscape below fading away, replaced by a warm , pleasant veil of misty white._

_Bursting through the top, clothes sopping wet and hair dangling in the eyes, laughing again. Nudge and Angel doing loop-de-loops in the air. High-fives all around, then a high-speed race back to the garage. Diving, side by side; Nudge's Chocolatey-dark wings shedding a sparkling shower of shining raindrops; elegant, silvery streams trailing from Angel's cream-colored wingtips. And far, far below, sleeping on his stomach with his outstretched wings shimmering in the light..._

_Night has fallen, and the air is filled with the chirping chorus of thousands of singing crickets. There is no air-conditioning and her room feels baking-hot. Getting up and walking to the restroom as the peaceful sound of snoring echoes through the mini hallway._

_Washing her face with cold, frigid tapwater; it feels so good. An unbearable itch starts twinging on her wing, then stops. A hawkish-tan feather detaches itself and drifts softly to the floor._

_Shedding again... shedding is _so_ not fun..._

_Turning, walking back down the tiny hallway. Loud snores from all directions._

_Then walking, slowing, stopping at the outside of Fang's door. No snoring sound is coming from within. He must be having a sleepless night too. A pause, then..._

_Passing by, slowly, carefully, avoiding the squeaky floorboard and entering her room again. Shutting the door._

_...It is too hot. On a sudden whim, the screen is lying on her bed and the cool night breeze beckons welcomingly._

_A crawl and a leap, and a swift and silent glide over the spacious lawn. The night breeze feels so good, cooling the feverish feathers with its delicate touch. The moon calls, and I wings send her spiraling up, higher and higher, watching the stars as they flicker and flash in the glittering heavens. It is a cloudless night, and it is beautiful out._

_Reaching out for the moon, reaching out further, further, until it seems almost close enough to touch. Cool air and peaceful silence as a meteor streaks the sky with a flash of gold._

_Turning, wheeling, and coasting down towards the land. The air whistles through her hair. Then, gently, she is flying just above the treetops. The dark, silent sentinels of the forest whip past her feet and she laughs, stretching her wings out and reveling in the flight. Then, all of a sudden..._

_...Soaring beside her... is Fang..._

_He coasts beside her, keeping pace, the moonlight shining off his dark and majestic form. The trees rapidly flit below as the moonlight glints off the deep, dark feathers of his wings. The wind ripples through his hair, pulling it back from his face. Her heart beats faster._

_With a faint smile, Fang pulls closer, and his wingtips softly tickle hers. He glances at her, then looks pointedly at the horizon and back._

_She smiles. You're on, she mouths; then they're off, wildly pumping their wings, trying to outdo each other._

_The remainder of the forest flits past and a wide swathe of farmland stretches out below. She glances at him and he meets her gaze. A smoldering fire seems to burn in his expression, and her heart leaps. She looks away._

_They continue to fly side-by-side, and the landscape whistles past below..._

_Then, suddenly, everything shifts. They continue to fly. They are in a dark, ominous landscape filled with burning fires and scorched earth. The air is filled with smoke and ashes, and the night sky is deepest black. No stars flicker overhead. Burning flashes blast from the hillsides, sending strange dancing lights drifting up into the dark. The air is cold, and silent. They continue to coast beside one another as a frightening bang rips through the heavens. A large warship sinks through the rumbling clouds, tearing in half with a ear-rending shriek. Scraps of dark metal hurtle to the ground below, colliding, shooting showers of gristly rock into the sky. An explosion rocks the air, and flaming wood separates from the ship and plummets to the earth._

_Fang is silent, flying beside her. His black hair billows in the wind. He beckons to her and wheels to one side, and she turns and follows, confusion filling the air. They glide quickly past the steaming ruins beneath them. The land is shifting, moving; the hills grow and shrink and shoot upwards, only to shrink again. The air is filled with smoke... black, thick smoke..._

_Fang flares his wings and turns, hovering in the air. He faces her. His expression is filled with deep longing and heart-rending sorrow. His dark hair falls loosely around his face, and his eyes smolder with hidden emotion._

_"Max," he says breathlessly. A swirl of dark fog envelopes them and disappears, and suddenly he is hovering just by her side. His arms wrap around her waist, and he pulls her closer._

_"Max," he breathes,_

_"I -_

_An explosion rocks the air. Showers of stinging black rocks rain down upon them. Fang wraps his wings around her, enveloping her in his radiant warmth and shielding her from the stones. They draw closer, hearts pounding. Then..._

_A deafening roar rings through the air. A shower of sparkling, razor-sharp metal rains down upon them, slicing through his wings and embedding themselves into her arms and upper back. Pain, sharp, torturous, blinding pain. Blood. Flashes of red. Spiraling, down, down, a bone-crushing impact on thick, hard rock. An avalanche of dust hurtles down, filling the air. Choking, suffocating. Fighting for air. The world blacks out..._

_Then..._

_Sitting on the ocean floor; the water is thick and tugs at her wings and body. She is gazing upwards, watching the shimmering light filtering through the surface. The light lances through the tranquil water, and the rays dance across the sandy bottom._

_A ripple spreads across the surface, and a black feather appears and slowly, dreamily, zigzags down to her. She reaches out and it dissolves in front of her fingertips..._

_Silence._

_She is swimming, up through the watery depths. The light grows brighter, brighter. Then..._

The light fades slowly, and distant voices blur the air.

The voices slowly, painfully slowly, become clearer. Fuzzy snatches of conversation float through the air.

"Do a plaster splint..."

"Primary feathers..."

"He needs blood. There is a packet by your right..."

The conversation fades away, replaced by a dull ringing sound. Then, slowly, the voices become clear again.

The voices became louder, and the fuzzy edge to the words disappeared.

Max groaned.

"Nick, it cannot be done," an exasperated woman's voice said. "Her nerves are almost completely interlaced around it. If we extract it now, there is a large possibility that she will lose the use of her arm."

"That may be so," a male voice said. "However, if it is not removed, Itex will continue to track them. The signal is very strong," he said softly. "Very. She is of valuable use to them, Vortex. We can only imagine what they are planning for her." There was a rustling sound as someone stood and stretched. "Hu-huhh-haawgh-_yagh_," he yawned. "That was a long, _long_ trip. The other one weighed a ton."

A faint feeling of unease entered Max's mind. It struck her that the man had a faint Russian accent. A memory slowly began to take form...but a wave of sleepiness washed over her mind, and she drifted off.

When she came to, the man and woman were talking softly.

There was a a sound of clicking glass. "Tranquilizer and antidote are both running out," the woman said. "We need to make another supply run, Nikolai."

More rustling noises as the voices continued to talk. Max groggily tried to open her eyes but couldn't. She knew she was lying on a hard surface of some sort. Her wings were tucked neatly behind her back, forming a comfortable pillow. Her head rested on some sort of foam block. _Is this Itex? _She thought confusedly. _They would never dream of giving us pillows like this. Where on Earth am I?_ She tried to open her eyes again, but failed.

Max gave up the stuggle to see what was happening and contented herself by listening to their conversation.

The lady hummed softly. There were more sounds of clicking glass, then the sound of stirring.

The woman sighed. "Sedative requires much effort to make," she said. She paused, then spoke again, more softly: "Where were the others, Dominic? Were they...?"

Silence.

Max's mind churned in panic. Her memories were beginning to come back. The fight with the towering Avian in the patchy, moonlit forest. The sight of her bedroom, completely destroyed, with her laptop lying there, broken in half. And Fang, horribly injured, with rips and slashes across his body and wings and the single deep stab mark, oozing blood, a gaping wound...

_Where the heck was she?_ She attempted to sit up but couldn't. She was sedated, somehow. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

The man spoke, and Max carefully listened.

"I did not detect any of the others during my journey. When I finally reached the house, I sensed a disruptive wave source emanating from a van. It appeared to be an electronic jammer, very powerful and sophisticated."

"Mm," the woman said. "Where were the other jammers located?" There were more mixing sounds, then the sound of a heavy bowl being placed on a table.

"The first one was in the van," he said. "It was very poorly concealed; they had set it on the dashboard, almost in full view. And I think," the man said slowly, "It was a high-altitude type machine. As I was approaching the house, I detected it at a height of approximately two thousand five hundred meters."

"Wow."

"I know. It was stunning, hit me like a blastwave. I, er, had to dismantle it, you see, because of its strength."

There was a pause, then the woman laughed.

"So I gathered," she said humourously. "The smaller sections are still intact, though, Nickolai. I must admit I was rather disappointed."

The man chuckled, then continued. "They were in a rush, I think. One jammer was placed on the roof next to the chimney, one was shallowly-buried in the garden, and the other two were air-dropped into the woods, emitting only a weak signal."

Max struggled to open her eyes again. She managed to open them a crack, but saw nothing. With a start, she realized her eyes were covered with some sort of black fabric. She closed her eyes again and sighed, then listened intently.

"So those were the jammers. The samples I gave you came from the kitchen, the upstairs bedroom, and from the hay in the garage. They are all hair and feather samples, so they should be pure." There was a pause.

A fan rapidly whirred somewhere high-up above her head, sending a gentle breeze through the air. It was warm and pleasant. A faint whiff of...propane?...reached her nose, along with the scent of cloves and mint. The man and woman were talking right beside her bed, and it sounded like there was a table nearby, laden with glass containers of some sort. The woman was working by the table, preparing something. A faint bubbling sound came from something on the table, along with a steady hissing.

The two continued to talk.

"The garden was covered with large pawprints," the man said slowly. "Vortex, do you remember that project they were working on while we were there? Well, they have succeeded. They have created man-wolf hybrids."

The woman sharply inhaled. "What?" she snapped. "They actually succeeded? ...But that is _impossible..._"

"It is not. I know, because I found one, dead, fallen by the edge of the garden."

There was a shuffling noise and the sound of a page being torn.

"Here is a pen and paper," said the woman. "Please draw, in detail, what you have seen. I must tend to the boy," she said softly.

_Fang, _Max thought. With immense effort, she reached up and ripped the black fabric from her eyes, then groaned.

This was going to be an interesting day.


	5. Chapter 5

Looming over her was the towering figure of Dominic Erann-Ivanovich.

"Ah, good, you are awake!" he said enthusiastically. He craned his neck towards her, and Max was shocked at the gaunt appearance of his face. He looked much thinner than she remembered.

"I apologize for not introducing myself... properly," he said ruefully. He stood to his full height and held out his hand. "Dominic, if you like," he said. He held out his hand and helped her stand to her feet.

They were in a large warehouse of some sort. Stark fluorescent lights dangled from the high, flat roof. Several fans rotated rapidly on the ceiling, casting a gentle breeze throughout the empty space. Near her bed, a large steel table was laden with bubbling beakers, wooden bowls, and jars of strange dried plants and powders. A woman worked at the table, sifting something through a sieve. Her back was turned, and she was wearing a long, white lab coat.

Behind the table, half-hidden by the table's load, was a bed. Just visible, poking out from behind the table, was a pair of feet; the rest of the figure was hidden. Several long, black pinion feathers lay bloodied on a small nightstand near the motionless feet.

"Oh my gosh," Max said shakily. "Is that Fang?" _Why are some of his feathers detached from him like that? _

Dominic looked at her quizzically, then followed her gaze to the curtained bed beyond the table.

"Oh, you mean the man with the black-feathered wings? He is Fang?" Dominic asked, cocking his head slightly.

_Just like a bird,_ Max thought scornfully, glancing at Dominic's painfully thin face. ..._Who is this guy? Why did he bring us here?...Most importantly, is he a slave of Itex itself?_

Max took a few steps, then stopped, legs violently wobbling. She could barely keep her feet.

"Here, let me help," said Dominic, offering her his arm.

"Thanks," Max said. _What's up with this, he's a chivalrous gentleman all of a sudden? Why is he so nice right now? _Max glanced suspiciously at Dominic out of the corner of her eye. His cheekbones were sharply contrasted on his frighteningly gaunt face.

He met her gaze out of the corner of _his_ eye, and said, "Come, let us see your friend, shall we not?" he said. "But first, you must meet my sister in the lab coat. She is called Vortex, an old name that she has become quite fond of."

The woman snorted. "Dominic, you flatter me far too much." Her tone was jokingly sarcastic. "Just a minute, please..." the woman said, staring intently at a bubbling beaker of a light-green liquid. A bunsen burner hissed and spat near the woman's left elbow.

Max took the opportunity to size up the woman, who was swirling the beaker with a gloved hand.

Max didn't like people in white lab coats. As a general rule, they lab-coated people brought pain and misfortune upon members of the Flock. But this woman seemed different from the ones from the School...

The woman had her dark-blonde hair neatly stacked in a tidy bun. A few long, stripey feathers nestled fashionably in the curves of the bun. _She's got nice hair,_ Max thought approvingly. Workers from the School had never worn accessories in their hair like that.

In addition to the nice, neat bun, the woman was of relatively tall stature. She was smaller than her brother Dominic, but she still looked relatively tall and long-legged. Then again, Max thought, that could be due to the lab coat. Long apparel like that tended to make people look tall.

"Done," the lab-coated woman said approvingly. She set the beaker on a thick white towel and set a new beaker on the holding-stand above the hissing bunsen burner. Then she turned to face them.

"Ah, Maximum Ride," she said happily. "It is such an honor to meet you, dear."

The woman's face was a shock to behold. Her right eye was covered by a dark-brown eyepatch, and a long, jagged scar laced its way across the right side of her face. The scar crossed the area that was covered by the eyepatch, giving the woman an almost frighteningly rugged look.

Apart from that, the woman had a round, friendly face with smile-wrinkles at the corner of her left eye. Her skin was cream-colored and spotted with freckles across her cheeks. She had short bangs that hung just above the tops of her lean, angular eyebrows, and her eye was a chocolatey-brown.

The woman briskly strode to where Max and Dominic stood, then held out her hand. "I am Vortex Erann-Ivanovich," she said cheerily. "Nice to meet you, Maximum Ride."

Max shook her hand and smiled back. "Nice to meet you, too, Vortex. But you can just call me Max."

_What happened to her face? _Max thought slowly. _Is this what Dominic meant when he said "Vortex" was an old name she grew fond of?_ ... _Are these people both escapees of Itex?_ ..._ Like the rest of the Flock?_

The woman glanced from them to the table. "Nikolai, Max, I must tend to the flame," she said. "The extract is beginning to boil." She turned and gestured at them to follow.

Max gritted her teeth as Dominic hummed a strange tune in what sounded like Russian. She was forced to hold onto the crook of his arm as they made their way towards the heavy table.

The smell of mint and cloves grew stronger as they approached.

Vortex gestured grandly at the table with a sweep of her arm.

"I am sorry I could not introduce myself right away, Max," she said, a smile creasing the corner of her eye. The eyepatch shifted slightly, and she brushed it back in place with the edge of her wrist. "As you can see, I am synthesizing sedative for your friend. He recently underwent surgery of the lower thoracic region and the upper abdomen. Please, come over here so I can talk to you while attending to the heating."

Max and Dominic strode over to the woman. "I don't mean to be impolite, but... may I please see Fang?" Max asked slowly. Fang's inert feet spooked the hell out of her. The fact that he was hidden behind a table with weird medicines didn't add much to the bizarre atmosphere. _He underwent Surgery in a Warehouse? ...Something strange is going on._ Max bit her lip and looked around. There were no windows, and the large cargo-door on the distant side looked like it was secured shut. _Where the heck am I right now? ...And what have they done to Fang?..._ Even more pressing, did they give him anesthesia?

Vortex sighed."Yes, you may see your friend. Of course, of course. He is doing very well. Do not fear, Max; I have been fully trained in the arts of medicine," Vortex said reassuringly, catching Max's look of suspicious disbelief.

"Come." The three of them strode past the woman's worktable, and Fang's body came into full view. Max gasped and rushed to the side of the bed.

Fang lay there, covered by a thick white cloth. By the looks of it, his entire body, excluding his face, was swathed in bandages. Many of the bandages were stained red from his wounds.

His feet were bruised and scratched, with dark-purple blotches scattered across his ankle and lower calf. His stomach, shrouded by the thick white cloth, had oozed a tiny spot of blood through the white fabric.

His head rested upon a thick, foamy pillow, and his face was peaceful and serene. Slow, regular breathing made his powerful chest rise and fall. With a jolt, Max realized that Fang's wings were also swathed in bandages. A multitude of tiny feathers lay scattered across the white bedsheet surrounding his bandaged form.

Although he was in pretty rough shape, he looked much better than he had curled up and bleeding to death in the broken, old garage.

Max exhaled with relief.

"Fang," she said; her voice quivered. "Fang, I am so, so glad. Fang, you are going to be alright."

And at the sound of her voice, he smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Vortex and Dominic left her alone, by Fang's side.

"Max..." Fang whispered slowly.

Fang's eyes remained closed. His breathing was deep, slow, regular. Then, suddenly... unexpectedly...

A faint blush crept up the sides of his face, polishing his cheeks with a rosy glow.

_Fang..._ A yearning sensation gripped Max's heart, and she felt a sudden urge to draw closer to him. She fought the urge and glanced back at the table. Vortex was hidden behind the pile of glassy jars of medicines, and Dominic was munching on something, his huge, winged back facing them. Max turned back to Fang and gently, ever so gently, held his hand between hers.

"Fang," she said softly.

"Max," he whispered back, in his rough, deep voice. He took a deep breath, and his strong, muscled chest slowly rose and fell. His fingers wrapped around hers, and his warmth seemed to flood through Max's arm.

A burning-hot feeling spread across Max's face and neck. Her cheeks felt hot.

With a start, she realized she was blushing.

"Max, I..." A faint twinge of pain seemed to lance across his chest, and he grimaced slightly. Then his face slowly relaxed back to its tranquil expression, and he gently rubbed the top of her hand with his roughened thumb. A smile lingered at the edges of his mouth.

"Max, this is the first time... that we've held hands, isn't it?" he said.

Max's cheeks still felt hot. "Seems like it," Max said. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Fang sighed happily.

A second wave of pain made him grit his teeth, and his jaw muscles tightened. He gripped Max's hand until the pain passed, and his face fell back into its calm, relaxed look.

"Max, I... I'm sorry you had to see me like this," he said slowly. His eyebrows knit together and a shadow of a frown crossed his face. "A lot happened while you were gone. ...A lot."

"I know," Max said quietly. "Everything will be alright, Fang. Focus on getting better, and everything will be alright."

The frown faded from his face, and a faint blush reappeared. "Max..." he said. His lips trembled slightly, and he whispered something so faint that she couldn't hear. "Yes, Fang?" she asked gently, leaning in closer. His warm breath tickled her right ear.

"Max, I... I..." he hesitated, then said, "You're an awesome person, Max." Disappointment seemed to cloud his face. A disappointed feeling also seemed to fill Max's heart.

There was a distant tearing sound, and Max turned. In the distance, with his back towards them, Dominic was ripping the top off of what looked like a package of cookies. He glanced back at them with a shamed expression. "Apologies," he called to Max. He turned back to the package and swiftly tore through the inner bag, then grabbed a cookie and tossed it into his mouth.

Max was shocked, again, at how thin and gaunt Dominic looked. He looked like he'd been starving for two weeks. Even his wings seemed ragged and starved. As she watched, a long, slim feather detached from his wing and floated in the air. It slowly zigzagged down, drifting sideways in a breeze from the fans above.

The empty warehouse ceiling stretched high above them all. Again, Max was struck by the strangeness of the scene. What were they doing here? Where the heck _were_ they, exactly? And did they actually do surgery on Fang _here? _In this dirty, dusty place? No way. There was no way they would do something unsanitary like that. She had to get more info, somehow.

She turned back to Fang. She gently squeezed Fang's hand, and slipped her fingers away from his. "Time to figure out where the heck we are," she explained to him.

"Great," he said hoarsely, and grit his teeth as another wave of pain wracked his body.

Max sighed and got to her feet.

In the distance, Dominic popped another cookie in his mouth. He peered up at the edges of the warehouse roof, squinting his eyes. The dusty floor stretched out around him, and the huge metal walls of the place actually made him look kind of small.

He glanced in the direction of Max and Fang. Seeing that they were apart, his face seemed to brighten and he strode towards them. His sunken eyes seemed to penetrate right through her, even from such a far distance.

Dominic tossed another cookie into his mouth and drew closer. He walked with a faint limp, and Max sheepishly realized it was from the kneecap-kick she'd given him in the moonlit fight.

He drew nearer and grinned. The smile made the skin stretch on his face, and it was almost painful to watch.

"Max _and_ Fang, eh?" he said good-humouredly. He took a step forward and held out the cookie box.

"Here, you must be hungry. Please, eat some food," he said. His smile broadened. "It was a long trip for you both. Here, please eat." Seeing that Max wasn't moving, Dominic strode forward and set the box on the side of Fang's bed. Then he straightened up and stretched his shoulders back.

The joints popped, and he groaned in despair. "Yawgh," he yawned. "That certainly _was_ a long trip." He cracked his neck and stretched, and a handful of feathers floated to the floor. Max stared.

He glanced at her with his sunken eyes. "You must eat," he said again. His cheekbones bulged out from his face.

"Um, what about you, Dominic?" Max asked hesitantly. _What on Earth happened to this guy?_ "I think you need food more than we do. You look like you haven't eaten for three weeks," she said.

"Ah, no, no. I am doing excellently well, I assure you," he said happily. "There is more food over there, so do not worry. I will get more shortly." Dominic nodded reassuringly at Max. "There is much we must talk about. 'Ey, Fang, are you awake?" He walked to the edge of the bed and peered down at Fang. His shoulder blades stood out sharply underneath his white t-shirt.

Max turned and looked down at Fang too. His breathing seemed slower and deeper. "Fang?" she said. There was no response.

"Yup, he's asleep," Max said, holding back a laugh. She noticed the box of cookies sitting on the side of Fang's bed, reached in, and took a bite. _Chocolate chip,_ she thought approvingly. The burst of sugary taste flooded her mouth. She closed her eyes in bliss. "Delicious," she said. Happiness filled her mind.

_I am _so_ glad that Fang's okay,_ she thought happily. _So, so glad._


	7. Chapter 7

Max sat outside the old, worn-down warehouse building. She was sitting on an old cement block, facing the sunset as it faded behind the leafless trees. A faint chill filled the air. It was mid-October, and the rich autumn scents of cut hay and burning charcoal drifted on the breeze.

"Hey, Max." Fang walked up and sat by her side, wrapping his arm around her waist. She moved closer to him and they sat together, companionably, watching the red sunset streak the air with flaming scarlet.

Two weeks had passed since Max had awoken in the dusty warehouse. In that time, Fang had fully recovered, and Dominic and Vortex had brought them up to speed on the recent events. Their story was a weird one.

Dominic and Vortex were escapees of the School. They were early prototypes of the Avian breed. They had been conceived through artificial insemination, and approximately 6% of their DNA consisted of bird genes. That was why Dominic was so large and well-built; his genes consisted of dominant DNA codes. He was, in the end, six foot five inches tall, 148 pounds, and had a wingspan of twenty-two feet.

His large wings made it impossible to hide in public, so he was forced to do nighttime reconnaissance missions only when the need called for it. He couldn't venture into the air at all except in dark, stormy conditions. And even then he had to wear black. He had to be careful to hide during daytime and not attract attention.

Vortex was Dominic's older sister. She fondly called her brother "Nickolai", because that was the nickname that the other prototype Avians had given him in School. Vortex was about three or four years older than Dominic; neither of them knew their exact ages. Vortex thought she was around twenty-three; Dominic figured he was around twenty.

By some strange genetic twist, Vortex had been born without wings. The scientists at the school had apparently been furious when they'd found out, and they'd tried to kill her when she was an infant. After much debate, they'd let her live. And they were glad they did.

Vortex was born with an amazing ability to learn and invent. When she was a toddler, she escaped from her cage multiple times. The scientists noticed this and ran a barrage of tests on her. As a toddler, she had solved Rubix Cubes in fifteen minutes and 1000-piece puzzles in just ten.

The scientists, amazed at her abilities, had used artifical technology to conceive her brother, thinking he'd have the same characteristics. Since he was part of the new Avian wave, they added extra genes. He had developed as a normal, slightly large, but otherwise unremarkable Avian toddler.

When he was learning how to walk, however, the scientists ran a barrage of tests and discovered that he had the ability to hear extremely high- or low- frequency sounds. His hearing surpassed that of bats. Naturally, this made him very sensitive to loud noises, and the scientists were careful to isolate him in a soundproofed room. He was only allowed to play with his sister, and that was only twice a week.

Eventually, through a bunch of unknown nanosurgeries, Dominic had gained the ability to interefere with electronic devices. It was a convenient ability, but an extremely foolish act on the part of the scientists.

He and his sister escaped the School at the age of eight. Vortex's intelligence and Dominic's strange powers allowed them to hack into the School's computers, scramble the security cameras, and reroute all the defensive machinery. In the struggle to run away, however, they were attacked by a robotic Scythe-Man and she lost her eye.

Years had passed, and the two of them eventually learned how to hack and decode the Itex databases. It was there that they discovered information on a planned farmhouse raid. Thinking that something immoral was going on, Vortex and Dominic agreed to check out the place and see what was going on.

A week before the listed raiding date, Vortex hacked into a confidential e-mail and discovered that the raid had been moved ahead of schedule. She sent Dominic ahead to check the place out, and that's where he'd found Max and Fang.

So that's how Dominic and Vortex found them. And that's why they were able to sit here, in the fresh autumn breeze, watching the sunset sink below the rippling farmland.

Fang put his arm around Max's shoulder. She leaned back and felt his strong, muscled body supporting her weight.

A gentle breeze stirred the long, dry grasses at the edge of the pavement. The dirt road in front of them was tinged with sunset. It was a very peaceful setting.

Fang broke the silence. "Max, I was wondering..."

"Yeah?" A wisp of her hair blew into her eyes and she blinked it away.

Fang paused. "Do you... like Dylan?"

Max sharply drew in a breath. _Dylan... why would he bring up Dylan?_

Images of blonde-bleached feathers and a tan, muscular body floated into her mind.

_I so did not expect this,_ she thought unhappily.

"I, um, can't say," she said slowly. "I think I like him. I mean, he's a nice guy. But, compared to you, Fang... he's, just... a bump in the road."

Fang sighed slowly.

"I saw you with him, that one time," he said. "When you were off shopping at Walmart. Iggy and I were doing an ATM and hardware-store run, and we saw you entering the mall with him. With Dylan." He shifted slightly and his arm fell away from her shoulder. _Uh-oh. Is he jealous? _Max longed for the warmth of his muscly arm around her shoulders. This was not good, not good at all.

_There never was anything between me and Dylan. Never. Not even once,_ Max thought, mind spinning back. _There was that one time, though... in that walk through the woods...But why the heck would he bring him up...?_

Ok. Now she was getting ticked.

Max pulled away from Fang, and stood up and faced him.

"Ok, well. I suppose you already know the answer, Fang. Yeah, I liked Dylan. In fact, I still do. But I don't think this is at all relevant to our conversation," she said, irritation tightening her voice. "Why are you bringing this up? Right here, right now? I mean, come on!" She turned and pointed furiously at the sunset. "This was _perfect_! Totally _**perfect**_! And you just had to ruin it by bringing Dylan into the picture!"

Max turned and stomped towards the warehouse, then changed her mind and headed towards the dusty dirt road. The red sunlight filtered through the trees, shining into her eyes and filling her vision with red. Her eyes watered.

_Where is everyone?_ she thought. _Where is the Flock? ...And why, _why, _would he bring up Dylan's name? _Something very, very upsetting was going to come out of this conversation. She knew, she just knew. And it really was not going to be pleasant.

"Max, wait." Fang was behind her, following her. He didn't touch her, though. That was smart of him, 'cause if he had, she was sure she'd push him away.

"Max." His voice was even, steady. "There's a reason I brought him up. And I hate to tell you this, but..."

Max broke into a run and turned onto the dirt road.

The road stretched straight in front of her, an endless, flat expanse of sunset-tinted gravel. It continued between the tall, dried-out grasses into the distance, disappearing into open farmland.

_Dylan... and Angel, Nudge, Iggy, Gazzy... where did they go? What happened to them? ..._ Max gritted her teeth and sprinted harder. She hated to admit it, but, deep down, she didn't want to know. She was happy here, with Fang, and Dominic, and Vortex. She was happy with just helping Fang recover. It took her mind off of things. But in the end, she thought, there was going to be chaos, and blood, and tears, and she was going to have to face up to the truth and listen to what Fang had to say.

She sprinted faster. The grasses flew by.

There was a reason why Fang didn't tell her about the fight. About what happened that day, when she went off shopping for a surprise birthday present for Angel. Everyone else had gathered around the T.V., and Gazzy had went into the kitchen to prep some salsa. She'd left Fang in charge of the house. What happened? Who, or what, had injured Fang?

Fang hadn't told her, not last week, and not this week. She'd figured it was too much to ask from him, especially since he had been recovering from his deep, ugly wounds. Now that he was bringing up Dylan, and the flock, she was afraid. And she didn't want to hear what he had to say.

She was afraid of so much. Afraid of what Fang had seen and done. Afraid of what the others had gone through. Afraid of what the weird scrambling-devices in the yard and car had meant, and afraid of what had placed them there...

A rapid pounding noise slowly drew nearer to her. _Fang? He's running? In his condition?_ Max slowed and stopped. The last thing she needed was for him to bust his stitches out.

She turned and inhaled slowly through her nostrils. This was going to be tough. Especially since she _did_ have feelings for Dylan. They weren't as strong as the feelings she had for Fang, but still... they were there.

"Alright," she said, eyes closed, facing in the direction she'd came. "Tell me everything, Fang, everything. Don't leave anything out," she said slowly, gritting her teeth. She opened her eyes.

He was standing right next to her. His muscly, heaving, t-shirted chest was at eye level, and she had to crane her neck upwards to look him in the eye. He stared her back, and his expression was one of exhausted bemusement.

He breathed deeply from the run, and clutched the side of his stomach, grimacing a little.

"Max, you have one fiery temper." He grinned weakly and clutched at his stomach, grunting a little. "Ok. I'm going to give it to you straight. We're talking about Dylan, right?" he asked. She nodded.

"I didn't fight him," he said.

Max was stunned. _"What?..._ You're kidding."

"Nope," he said good-naturedly. "I was helping him prep some bean dip for the salsa. Gazzy was somewhere in the living room, with Iggy, Nudge, and Angel. Then some weird snarly noises came through the screen in the back door, and we were attacked by a group of Flying Erasers."

Max was stunned. _"Flying _Erasers? ...Why didn't you_ **tell** _me this?" she took a step back and stared him in the eye. She knew Itex had sent Erasers out after them. She'd learned that from talking to Dominic and Vortex. But they had never said anything about _flying_ Erasers.

Her mind whirled. _That's right, Dominic was describing the dead Erasers on the ground,_ she thought slowly. _It's possible that none of the flying ones were killed. But that means..._

She looked at Fang. _He looks awesome in the setting sun_, she thought distractedly. Fang's dark hair fell around his eyes, giving him a dark and somber look.

The faint autumn breeze rustled the grasses by the side of the road as Fang stared thoughtfully past her head. Finally he spoke again.

"Well. Yes. There were freaking Flying Erasers. I was beat up, stabbed, and mauled in midair." He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "It was Itex again, Max. Itex. They sent their newest monsters out to get us. And guess what? They had blade guns, Max. Like regular guns, but... with blades."

Max stared at him, mouth open. "Freaking blade guns," she said weakly. Her mouth felt dry.

Fang stared at the sky overhead, crossing his arms. "Yup," he said, eyes distant. "They were goddamn nasty mother fawkers, those filthy beasts."

Max bit her lip. _Those Itex scientists. Why did they go so far, creating such freakishly sadistic monsters?_ Those freaking bastards.

Max stepped forward aggressively and poked Fang in the chest. "Did. They. Capture the Flock," she spat, staring at him ferociously.

"No, they didn't. Dylan and I fought them so the rest of the Flock could get away. It was a close call. Damn, those things were powerful," he said, turning his back on her and looking up at the sky. "They busted right through the ceiling at one point. Were looking for someone, they said. They actually tried to avoid fighting with us. But we went after them, Max. And we gave them hell."

His bandaged wings shone purple in the setting light. A mosquito bit Max on the cheek, and she slapped it distractedly. Tension hummed through her veins, making her wings quiver.

"Fang. Look at me. Did any of them get to the Flock?"

Fang turned, avoiding Max's eyes. He put his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders slumped.

"Fang. Tell me, please. I need to know. Is everyone okay? What... who...?" Max's heart plummeted. Already, she knew. She knew. She could just see it on his face. Someone had been caught. He glanced at her, and his black eyes held an expression of excruciating sorrow.

"Yeah, Max. They took Dylan. They took him. And I don't know where they went."


	8. Chapter 8

"Oya, Max, Fang! Dinner's ready!" Vortex's shout carried through the cool autumn air.

Max turned and headed back to the warehouse. "C'mon, we better head back," she said.

Fang grunted, and they both walked back to the building.

The sun had almost disappeared below the horizon. _Mosquitoes are coming out,_ Max thought wearily. She hoped Vortex had some leftover mint gel. That stuff seemed to work pretty well.

The awkward silence hung in the air between them as they strode down the crunchy path. Finally, Max broke the silence.

"Hey, Fang."

"Yeah?" he said. He stared down at the gravel, avoiding her eyes.

"How do you know it was just Dylan? Are you sure none of the others were captured?" she glanced towards the warehouse. A smoky plume of barbeque smoke rose from somewhere in the back.

"Nope, none of the others were captured. Just him." Fang stared up at the sky with an agonized expression.

They reached the warehouse and headed for the side facing away from the street. Scraggly weeds poked out of the cracks in the pavement, scratching at their shoes and ankles.

"Yeah, Max, we should go for a walk after this. I'll tell you what happened, in detail," he said. He tried to put his arm around her, but she shoved him away.

The two of them reached the back of the warehouse. A small, beat-up barbeque smoked in one corner of the small yard, next to a couple of overturned food crates.

Dominic was standing at a picnic table, ripping through a package of bratwurst. He saw them approaching and waved.

"Hey-o, Max, Fang," he said amiably. He looked down and speared the bratwursts on a long, shaved stick of wood. Then he walked over to the flaming barbeque and plunked them down on the metal grate.

The sausages fizzed and popped, sending a delicious aroma into the air.

"There is much food for everyone," Dominic said, gesturing towards the picnic table. A pile of cooked sausage, corn-on-the-cob, chicken wings, and pizza was stacked across a series of huge paper plates. On the side, a large pile of napkins sat next to several six-packs of Coca-Cola.

"Please, help yourself," Dominic said generously. He grinned at them, then turned back towards the barbeque and flipped the bratwurst.

"Thanks, Dominic," Fang said. They sat down at opposite sides of the table and dug in.

"Great chicken," Fang said, eyeing the pile of meat. He shredded a wing and grabbed another one.

"Dude. Screw the walk," Max said, gnawing at a corn-on-the-cob, "We should just talk here."

" 'K, give me a min," Fang said, ripping into a slice of pizza. "Damn this is good."

"No kidding," Max said. The food was great. Everything had a great flavor of barbeque smoke. She reached for a bratwurst and wolfed it down. _Too bad there isn't any ketchup or mustard, _she thought regretfully.

After demolishing several platefuls of food, Max opened a can of Coke and looked around the darkening yard. The food was so good, she almost didn't want to think about Dylan's plight. The rest of the Flock might need their help, though. Time to talk to the genius of the place.

"Where's Vortex?" she asked. Fang took a swig of Coke and stood up, scanning the yard. "Gee, I don't know," he said. His brows furrowed with concern. "She called us over here, right? ...Where'd she go? 'Ey, Dominic!" he called out.

"Yah?" Dominic came towards them, wiping his hands on a barbeque glove. "What's up?"

"What'd you do ta' Vortex, man?" Fang asked jokingly.

Dominic shrugged. "She's doing genetic analysis on the hair-and-feather samples I brought back," he said.

"That's awesome," Max said. She took another sip of her cola and slapped a mosquito. "We're going to ask her about the hacking-job she did after we take a walk. See if she found any other of Itex's plans."

"Sounds good," Dominic said. "Do you need my help?" A bratwurst violently popped, and he glanced anxiously at the grill.

"Nope, we're good," Fang said. "Great food, though, Dominic. You the _Man_. You sure know how to use the BBQ." Fang winked at Max, then turned back to Dominic.

"You definitely went overboard on the quantity, though. Who's gonna eat all this?" Fang pointed at the stuff still on the table.

Max stared. She was pretty sure they'd demolished five, six platefuls each. And yet the picnic table was still loaded with food. The entire left end was stacked with it.

It was kind of a sore point between Fang and Dominic. Dominic ate so much food, he spent most of his time cooking over the BBQ. And yet, Dominic always had huge muscles. Even though he, like, never worked out.

"Oh, all the food? I'll finish it off," Dominic said, chuckling. He walked back to the grill.

He looked much better than before. His gaunt cheeks had filled in, and his feathers had stopped falling out.

He had apparently flown them eighty-five miles from the farmhouse, then dragged them into the University Medical School. Vortex drove to the place and did surgery on Fang there. Then Dominic had hauled them another fifty-three miles to the abandoned warehouse in the middle of farm country.

Yup, that was Dominic...He was one amazing dude. With one hugely berserk metabolism.

Max and Fang left the picnic table and walked to the road. "Let's go this way," Max said. They headed left, where the road was bordered by empty fields. The long, flat landscape stretched out in front of them.

Fang turned towards the fading sunset and stretched. "Ho-oof," he said. "Gosh, I'd give anything for a good flight right now. But first. You ready for this?" he asked, glancing at Max with concern. "Some things might be pretty disturbing."

Max sighed. "Give it to me, Fang. The truth... All of it."

" 'K," Fang said. He put his hands in his pockets, and they strode down the crunchy walk.

Fang was silent, gathering his thoughts. Max looked at him out of the side of her eye. He was tall, lean, and muscular; and the edges of his massive wings glinted with red from the fading sunset. The weak autumn breeze ruffled his air, sending his locks into his eyes. He brushed them away with the back of his hand, and began to speak.

"I don't know how to say this, Max. Everything happened so fast," he said slowly. He turned, and his dark, ebony eyes seemed to smolder with a hidden light. "There were a lot of them, Max, a lot of them. I... still remember Dylan's screams as they surrounded him... _ripped _at him..."

Fang looked down, hands in his pockets.

The cool breeze ruffled the long, tall grasses bordering the sides of the road.

The road stretched ahead of them, an endless smooth ribbon that slowly thinned and disappeared at the edge of the horizon.

It was quiet, and peaceful. And yet, something about this scene reminded Max of a strange, strange dream...

_Flying, side by side... wingtips touching... eyes smoldering with a hidden fire..._

Fang sighed, and it was full of sadness.

Max's heart almost stopped with shock. Fang almost never showed emotion; he usually kept them to himself, even when he had his arm around her. _He must be opening up,_ Max thought to herself.

Then, with a quick glance in her direction, he began his story.

"So. It was about six p.m.. I was helping Dylan dice tomatoes for the salsa. We raided the cupboards and chopped up a bunch of onions, tomatoes, garlic cloves; you name it, we added it. Then we poured in some of that fiery pepper powder. Gazzy was in the living room, watching T.V. with Nudge, Angel, and Iggy.

"That's when we heard the snarling.

"It was coming from the back door, through the screen. I went to check it out, and they busted right through the door. It was a swarm of Erasers. Some of them had wings, like us, but without feathers... I guess they had freakish, leathery bat-wings. They all had guns. I yelled at Iggy to take the others and get the hell out of there. Dylan and I held them off by the back door while the others escaped through the front. Then we ran like hell after them.

"We still had the kitchen knives, from dicing the tomatoes and stuff. By that time the ground was swarming with the freakin' Erasers. It was a full-out Itex raid, Max, and they were looking for you," he said, glancing sideways at her. He looked down and continued. "They saw Nudge, Iggy, and the others taking off from the front porch and sprinted towards them. Once the Flock was in the air, the Erasers shot those weird blade-guns at them. That really ticked me off.

"Dylan and I attacked, and we each got a gun. We shot at the Erasers, and we kept shooting until the Flock were a safe distance above the ground.

"By then we were attracting a bunch of attention. A group, or maybe a squad, of those things ran around the side of the house and tried to shoot us down. We managed to dash back in the front door and lock it. That kept the squad out, but the others were still there.

"The flying Erasers were sniffing around the place, and they snapped their heads up when we stumbled into the kitchen. They pointed their guns at us and told us not to move. A bunch of them kept sniffing around the place, though. They were searching for someone, Max... searching for _you_. But you were off buying that birthday present, and they didn't know where you were. So they attacked us instead and went psycho. One of them ripped a hole into the ceiling and crawled into your room; we had to dash up the stairs and bust up your laptop so they couldn't get your info. They got ticked.

We fought them in your room, and they shot Dylan in the legs with the blade-guns. I ripped open the window and dived out. He dove out after me.

I could see the Flock flying away, distant specks on the horizon. They were headed in the direction of the radio tower to the north.

I turned and Dylan was lying on the roof. Those damn Fliers were tearing him apart, he was screaming like hell. I attacked them and got them off him, but then one of them, a big guy, got a hold of my arm and bit into it, hard. I shook him off and tried to get a good shot at him, but he tackled me in midair and started punching at my wings. We flew out over the garage. I managed to shoot him in the head, but then an Eraser on the ground opened fire, and the blade stabbed me right in the gut. A couple more shots hit me hard in the wings.

"I fell through the roof of the garage. The last thing I remember is looking up and seeing Dylan, high up in the air, encircled in a knot of the Flying guys."

Fang sighed and looked to the ground. "And he was screaming..."

Max's mind reeled with the info. _So... Fang saw the Flock flying due north from the house. Iggy, Gazzy, __Nudge, and Angel. Dylan was last seen in a knot of vicious mutants. ..._

"Ok, good. I think I get it now," she said. "Fang, we're going to have to track down the Flock. Dylan's going to have to wait," she said slowly.

_Dylan always was a nice guy... but Itex won't beat him up too bad. What did Ari say about him? ...that Dylan was one of their "finest creations;" that he was my 'perfect match.' ...Even though I know we should help him...the Flock is waiting._


	9. Chapter 9

Fang stopped.

They were standing, side by side, in the middle of the gravel road. The cool breeze caressed the grasses along the edges, making the long seed heads nod up and down, up and down.

"What's up?" Max asked.

Fang kept staring down at the gravel. His wings seemed to droop.

"...Fang?" Max walked over to him and stared up into his face.

She saw his eyes were closed, and he was taking slow, deep breaths. _Wow, it must have been a traumatic fight,_ she thought. Of course it was. And to think that Dylan got ripped up by the Eraser dudes...

She didn't know what to do. Would it be weird to give him a hug or something? ...Yeah, probably. Some things were better off left to themselves.

Fang calmed himself and opened his eyes. "Whoo, that was definitely a traumatic time," he said slowly. "Hey Max, guess what?" He turned towards her with a serious expression on his face.

"What?" A foreboding feeling settled across her arms, covering them with goosebumps.

Fang turned and stared up at the night sky. The last rays of sunset had disappeared, and only a faint glow remained on the horizon.

A faint smile crossed his lips. "Ari was there," he said. The smile broadened into a grin.

"Ari?" Max's jaw dropped in amazement. Ari had been just a little kid when she'd last seen him, tagging along beside his daddy Jeb. "What was _he_ doing there?"

Fang glanced at her, then started to walk down the pathway again. "Well," he said, still staring up at the sky, "He was the Eraser who shot the blades into my gut and wing."

Max felt a scream building up inside. With a painful amount of effort, she gulped it down and took a deep breath. She felt like she was going to explode. "They. Changed. Ari?" she asked, voice quivering with rage. "You. Are freaking. Kidding me."

Fang turned and stared at her. "You think I would kid about something like that? ...Nope. I tell you, Max. It was Ari. And when he shot me he snarled and shouted something. Looked pretty ticked too. It's amazing, how much he's changed." He glanced to the left, towards the empty farmer's field. The endless expanse of flat dirt stretched far into the horizon. A lone farmer's grove lay smack in the middle of it, looking like an island in the midst of a dirt sea.

"Great farm country," he said happily. "Damn, it'd be great to get a flight in here. I bet we could see for miles," he said.

"Yeah, and I bet the _people_ could see us from _miles away,_" Max said angrily. "Fang. Are you saying that Itex took Jeb Batchelder's son and _used him for a freaking experiment?_"

"Yup." Fang turned and looked at her again. The faint smile still hovered at the sides of his lips.

"SO WHY ARE YOU _SMILING?_" Max shouted, glaring at him disbelievingly. "THAT'S F**ING HORRIBLE!" She stared at him suspiciously. "Are you just making this up? ...'cause it's not funny, Fang. Not funny at all. ...If you're making this up then I am going to freaking-"

"Hey, whoa, hey." He stepped closer, and the smile dropped from his face. "No, no, I'm not making this up. I'm smiling because he looked a lot older than I remember. Like, he looks like he's aged to about eighteen years or something. And it's been, what, eight, nine years since we escaped from the School, right?"

Fang pushed back his bangs and muttered a calculation under his breath. "Yeah," he said, looking up, "So he should be, like, twelve or thirteen years old, right? But I swear, he's a fully grown adult Eraser now. They must have aged him. Also," he said, holding up a hand, "He had one awesome black leather jacket with metal studs all over it and stuff. Better yet, he looked almost exactly like Wolverine from that movie we saw. No kidding. The little Batchelder has grown up into a freakishly manly beast, and it's all thanks to Itex."

Max stared at Fang. He stared back. A confused expression drifted across his eyes. "What?"

Max angrily shook her fist at him. "Those damn Itex scientists. What the heck are they thinking?"

"They are probably some secret governmental operation. Like weapons development or something." Fang shrugged. "So what do we do? We talk to Vortex, then what?"

Max sighed. "Then we have to track down the Flock and get everybody back together again. I dunno about Dylan, I think he will have to deal with things himself. How long do you think it'll take? Tracking down the others?"

"Maybe a year," Fang said slowly. "Did they have their tracking-tags removed? I can't remember if Jeb did that before we escaped..."

"Yup, they had their tags removed. Jeb said they were "A-class experimentals, not Alpha-X," whatever that means." Max gritted her teeth. A pounding headache had gripped her mind, and her nerves were suddenly humming with anxiety. "This is way too much for me, Fang. I'm going to go for a flight," she said. She rolled back her shoulders and stretched. "Yeah, I really gotta burn off this stress. I'll go for a flight, and I'll meet you at Vortex's Lab."

That was what they'd taken to calling to warehouse; "Vortex's Lab." It was filled with more equipment than before. Vortex said she was transferring her machines from the old location to this new one. Even though Itex couldn't track them because of Dominic's abilities, the two of them still had to move every three months. Just to be safe.

Max turned and was about to take off, when Fang suddenly grabbed her elbow. "Stop, Max," he said. His dark brows were furrowed with concern. "I've recovered enough. I'm coming with you."

"Nope, not gonna happen, Fang. Your stitches." A strand of her hair blew into her mouth, and she blew it away in distaste. "I need a flight, Fang. A real, honest-to-gods flight. This stress is too much..." She looked into his eyes and bit her lip. There was a strange light in his eyes, and it was slightly jealous. _Is he getting possessive?_ she thought anxiously.

She'd heard about guys getting possessive with girls they liked. Was this happening to Fang? She sincerely hoped not. If that was the case, it was going to be painful, living with him while they searched for the flock. _Max and Fang, Flock of Two, _she thought slowly. _Oh gosh, I hope we can get along without any fights. _But she knew that wasn't a likely scenario. Better take things in stride.

She looked at him quizzically, trying to pack as much scepticism as she could into her expression.

Fang scrutinized her face, then frowned. He let go of her elbow. His dark eyes seemed to droop with disappointment. "Okay, Max. But remember, Dominic is interfering with your radio-tag right now. If you go too far, he might take to the air and follow you. ...You know, so Itex won't get your location."

"Alright, just a few loops," Max said. Fang sighed, then turned and headed back. His large, raven-black wings glinted in the weak, pale moonlight, framed against the backdrop of nodding grass stems and the endless expanse of flatland.

In the pale moonlight...He looked like a dark angel of the heavens.

"Say...Fang..." she said. A warm glow filled her heart.

A sudden impuse hit her. She ran towards him.

"Whaa-" he spun around.

Max flung her arms around him and hugged him close. His muscles stiffened in surprise, then slowly relaxed. "Max," he said, voice cracking with emotion. He gently wrapped his arms around her, pressing her head tenderly into his chest.

Max desperately hugged him tighter. "Fang," she said softly, "I just want you to know that I... I..." She leaned back a bit and looked him in the face. "I love you," she whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

Then she kissed him on the cheek, sprang into the air, and took flight.


	10. Chapter 10

Max leapt into the air, spread her wings, and took flight.

Her heart pounded in her chest. _Whoa, _she thought panickingly. _Did I just...?_ She pumped her wings wildly, willing herself to gain altitude and disappear into the night sky. She could almost feel Fang's stare burning into her back. This was all too much; _way_ too much for her to handle. She took deep breaths, gulping in the cool night air, forcing herself to calm down. _It's going to be okay,_ she thought slowly. _It's alright, Max. It's alri-_... Tears stung her cheeks; her shoulders burned. She pushed harder, harder. _Almost there,_ she thought grimly, staring up into the starlight.

A distant, icy sheen of glittering noctilucent clouds sparkled high above. They seemed to be veiling the end of the earth; the border between the skies and the empty blackness of outer space. Max pounded her wings, urging herself to reach higher, higher. The chilly air bit at her breath, and her teeth ached from the cold wind.

With a grunt, she turned and wheeled through the air, looking down. The distant, shimmering lights of the farmer-groves lay scattered in clumps across the dark, featureless landscape. She could see a patchwork of farmer's fields stretching out immensely below; huge, sprawling expanses of dirt and mud.

_Is this what the land looked like three hundred years ago?_ she thought, staring down in awe. The land was totally, completely flat. It was kind of awesome, in a way.

In the distance, the horizon gleamed dully with the lights of the city. A pair of red, blinking lights slowly coasted down towards the light. _An aircraft. Coming in for a landing at the city._ Max wheeled again and stared at the skies above.

The stars twinkled, icy little pinpricks of sharpened light, shining at her from the ageless abyss. They lay scattered across the night, seeding the sky with their everlasting glow. One of them seemed to be moving. _A satellite, _Max thought. Strange technological marvel of the new age.

She wondered if Itex had satellites. Probably. Heck, they could be tracking her right now, zooming in on her with crystal lenses and relaying the data to massive supercomputers deep within their secret facilities. How many others had escaped? How many strange, half-human hybrids roamed the earth and the skies? She didn't know. She doubted that Itex even knew.

There was too much chaos in the world, she thought; way too much. And with rumors of War on the horizon, she thought, the peaceful stillness of the farm country below might not last very long.

What was Itex planning? Why the heck did they create Avians and Erasers in the first place? ...Max had a feeling she would find out very soon...

Max gasped and scanned below.

A tiny black speck, steadily growing larger, was rapidly spiraling up from the distant gravel road below. Max crossed her arms and frowned, hovering.

The speck continued to climb towards her.

What the...? Something was not right.

_Why would Dominic fly up from the gravel road? _Max squinted at the rapidly-approaching figure. Was it Fang?

The figure continued to spiral up. She glimpsed the dim shape of its wings, rapidly pumping, flinging its body into the air with each wingbeat.

_What the... hell...?_

A second figure had risen from the ground, and it was also pumping its wings. It was rising from the ground by the Warehouse.

_Dominic. So what..._ who...? Max gulped. The first figure was rapidly, steadily approaching her, with its awkward, unsteady, straining flight.

Dominic's massive wings were visible right when he left the ground. Max watched, amazed, as Dominic ripped through the air towards the jerkily-flying figure. He hit it in midair, far below. There was a brief tussle, then the first figure fell to the ground, spiraling away like a flattened, slapped mosquito. It looked like it was dead.

_Whoa... that was fast_, she thought, grinning a bit. She took a deep breath, then clapped her wings to her sides and dove down towards Dominic.

That's when she saw the others.

Erasers.

Squadrons of them.

And they were swarming the Warehouse.


	11. Chapter 11

Max dove.

The wind screamed past her ears, and the sharp, cold wind bit into her flesh. She angled her wings tighter around her body. _Faster... I must go faster!_ She bit her lip and stared down at the scene below, eyes wide.

There were five main groups of Erasers, from what she could tell. The first group was breaking down the door to the warehouse. The others were swarming through the backyard, rifling through the food on the picnic table and overturning the barbeque. A few random Erasers were scanning the road, sticking close to the crowd.

They didn't seem to notice her, slicing through the cold autumn air nearly a mile above the Warehouse.

Max dove faster. Vortex, she had to help Vortex. Her mind was running painfully fast. How did Itex figure out they were here? Why the hell were there so many Erasers? Why were there-

She stared down at the rapidly-growing landscape below. The warehouse was about the size of her thumbnail and rapidly growing. The dark, shadowy nightscape sent a chill down her spine. Why did Erasers like to attack at night? Why did they-

A huge, shadowy figure materialized in front of her. She careened right into it, and the breath was knocked out of her lungs.

"OOOF," she gasped. She felt like she'd been hit by a sledgehammer.

Dominic's strong arms gripped her shoulders with a painful intensity. He turned her around, so her back was against his chest, then hauled her back up into the towering heights of the night sky above. Max tried to scream, but she had no air left in her lungs. She limply hung there, gasping, as Dominic hauled her up, towards the stars and away from Vortex's Lab.

They stopped, and Max weakly took a breath. "What... are," she squeaked. "You..."

Dominic whipped her around and glared angrily into her eyes. His hands held her shoulders in an iron grip. "What are _you_ doing, Maximum Ride?" he hissed. His eyes sparked with rage. He snarled, and his long, elegant nose rippled with fierce ferocity. His lips were pulled back, showing his teeth. "Why do you dive towards the Eraers? ..._WHY?_" he shook her violently, and her teeth rattled. "ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF _KILLED?_" he bellowed into her face.

Max blinked, then coughed. "Dominic," she wheezed, "I was going... to warn... Vortex..."

Dominic sighed, and the rage seemed to drain out of him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then looked into Max's eyes again.

"Can you fly?" he asked, apologetically. Max weakly nodded. "Alright," he said. He let go of her shoulders, and she fell a short ways before regaining the use of her wings.

They were at least a mile in the air. The huge fields of featureless dirt spanned out on both sides of the gravel road below. The warehouse was smack below them, about the size of her smallest fingernail. The swarms of Erasers seemed to have converged around the entrance. ...Something weird was happening.

Max squinted and leaned forward. As she watched, several of the Erasers seemed to drop to the ground, then spazz around in a painful-looking seizure.

_What the..._ Max stared at the scene unfolding below. "What the... heck...?" she muttered. She turned to Dominic. "What the _heck_ is happening down there?" she asked.

He hovered, twenty feet away. His huge wings slowly, ponderously stirred the air, sending puffs of wind brushing against Max's face. "Ah, yes. Vortex," he said knowledgeably. He grinned, turning to look mischievously at Max. "You seriously underestimate her," he said, laughing. "She has an I.Q. of 238, and her passion is _toxicity_," he said, eyes crinkling. "Watch and wait, Max... watch and wait..." He turned and laughed, looking at the scene below with a huge smile on his face.

"Itex shall pay. And it is paying its price right now."

The swarm of Erasers froze for a moment, staring in disbelief at their spazzing comrades. One of them, a leader apparently, turned and shouted something, then dropped like a stone.

With a mad, howling chorus, the remaining Erasers, about thirty or forty of them, rushed the entrance and poured into the building. Dominic grunted and put a finger to his temple, concentrating.

_This is too freakin' weird, _Max thought angrily. What And where the hell was Fang?

* * *

Max's jaw dropped in shock.

The inside walls of the warehouse were splattered with blood, acid, and vomit. Scores of dead Erasers lay piled in heaps around the room. One of them lay in two pieces, hanging from the broken remnants of a ceiling fan that had crashed into the dusty floor.

"Oh. My. Gosh." Max willed herself to breathe.

"That should take care of them, alright," Vortex said cheerily. She stood behind the overturned steel table, clicking shut some weird part of a gun. "Sorry about the mess," she said sorrowfully. "But it was completely necessary. I hope you understand."

Max gingerly stepped over the contorted, bloodied remains of a dead Eraser. It had a dead, glazed look in its eyes, and its face was half dog, half human. A ragged piece of its arm lay clenched between its sharp, pointy teeth.

Dominic chuckled. "How many poisons did you use this time, Vortex?"

Vortex sighed and wiped her hands on her lab coat. She looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "Hmm, well. I finished the batch of deadly nightshade extracts, and I went through half of the water hemlocks," she said, looking wearily at her brother. "It will take much hard work to regain the stocks," she said, glancing at an Eraser by her feet. "Oh dear, looks like this one is still breathing."

Max groaned. "Oh. My. Freaking gods. You guys are just too weird," she said.

"Hey...Yo," came a wheezy voice. Fang stumbled through the doorway, looking sheepish. His wings were caked in mud.

"WHERE THE FREAKING HELL WERE YOU, FANG?" Max screamed. She leaped over the dead bodies and stopped in front of him, fists clenched.

"Cool it, Max. I was in the ditch," he answered, picking a twig out of his hair. "Ugh. Good thing I got those weird-*ss camouflaging abilities." He looked deeply embarassed, and his eyes kept moving glancing at Max's lips. His cheeks looked red beneath the mud. "Yeah, uh, sorry about the mud," he said sheepishly. He looked smolderingly at Max, then glanced at his surroundings. "Whoa. Max, did _you_ do this? ...What the _hell _happened?" He glanced across the room.

Vortex was uncapping a vial of some strange liquid. She held a syringe in her hand.

"The cicutoxin worked well on the leaders, I must say. It is interesting. They appeared to be weaker with respect to dosage," Vortex said thoughtfully. She knelt next to the fallen Eraser. "For the leaders, it must be the stronger expression of canid DNA in their cells and neurological structures that causes such rapid cyanosis," she said. She filled the syringe with liquid, then bent down and injected it into the Eraser's forearm. "That should do it," she said softly. "Now for the sedative..."

She refilled the syringe.

Fang gritted his teeth. "I can't believe we're doing this," he muttered. "I f**ing can't believe it."

He was being restrained by Dominic. "Calm yourself, Fang," Dominic said gruffly. "We need information, and this is the best way to get it."

Max put her hand on Fang's shoulder.

Vortex knelt by the side of Ari's contorted body. "Deep breaths," she said. "You will be fine. Deep, deep breaths."

Ari gasped, long tongue lolling out. "Water," he choked. "Need water." Vortex rose and poured a few drops of water onto Ari's tongue. "Need more," he gasped. Vortex poured a few more drops. "Why are we saving _him?_ Why?" hissed Fang. "_Why?_" he strained against Dominic's armlock and growled.

"Because he has info. Now shut it," Dominic said roughly.

"Ari," Max whispered.

Ari lay stretched out on the dirty, dusty floor. His shirt was speckled with foamy spit. His eyes still had that faint glassy sheen, and a faint spot of blood oozed out of a cut by his neck.

"The antidote is taking effect," Vortex said. With a grunt, Ari sat up and groggily looked around.

"Oh sh*t," Fang said.

* * *

Ari sat back against the steel table, which was pockmarked with bulletholes and metal shrapnel.

"So you are a newer version of Eraser. Is that all?" Dominic said disapprovingly. He was still restraining Fang.

Ari sighed and snarled. "That's all I can say, all that I know," he said sulkily. He glanced sideways at Max and winked. "You believe me, right, Maximum Ride?" He weakly grinned and leaned back against the table. "Ugh... What did you _shoot_ me with..."

Vortex crossed her arms. "Nothing you need to worry about. You have received antidote," she said. She adjusted her eyepatch and looked expectantly at him. "Come now, Ari, please tell us what you know of Itex."

Ari stared hungrily at Max. He licked his lips, then ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't tell you much," he said slowly. His eyes flicked from Fang, to Max, to Dominic and Vortex, then back to Max.

Max frowned and glared at him. "Tell us, or we'll beat your guts out, you sneaky little perv," she said. She didn't like how he kept looking at _her_, like she was some kind of prize or something. She probably shouldn't have called him "sneaky" or a "little perv," but at this point she didn't give a damn.

"Ah, the lovely Maximum Ride," Ari said, sitting up straighter. His eyes hungrily raked across her chest and hips, then darted back to her face. He grinned, and his sharp teeth made him look like a grinning wolf. "It is an honor to meet you, Maximum. Such a lovely honor. And _so_ unexpected..."

"Get talking, bastard," Fang growled. "And no lies, Wolf Boy."

Ari grinned wider. "Oh, and look at the raging little kid. Gotta have your _Daddie_ keep his eye on you, eh?" Fang's eyes widened, and Dominic's arms tensed. "Calm it, friends," Vortex said. She looked at Dominic out of the side of her eye and nodded.

Dominic closed his eyes and wrinkled his brow. Almost instantaneously, Ari winced and clutched his head between his palms. "Ohh nooooh make it stop make it stop _AAAAGH-... AA__**AAAA-GHH-hH... **__**AaAAGHGH, NOOOooOOH, **_**NOOOO, NOooooOO-"** Abruptly he looked up, and Max was startled to see tears in his eyes. _**"NoOo,**__**MAKE IT STOP!**__"_he screamed. He began to bash his head into the dirty floor, over and over and over. Max bit her lip.

Dominic took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"Alright, I will tell you everything, everything," Ari panted. A change seemed to have come over him. His eyes were less lively, and his shoulders drooped. He looked around at his dead, poisoned comrades. "You... You _did this to them?_" he exclaimed, looking around as if with fresh eyes. "Wh-_Why?_"

"Because you goddamned Erasers are _A*****,_" spat Fang.

Dominic glared at Ari, who bit his lip and frowned. "Alright," Ari growled.

And he began.


	12. Chapter 12

Ari snarled and began to talk.

"I was sent by Itex. Yeah, you knew that already, right? Well, they sent me on a mission with Squadrons C-4 and C-6, led by Commander Ferrang." Ari paused and nervously licked his lips. His weird wolflike muzzle made him look like a terrified husky. "I was told to get out of the facility and follow the rest of the gang. So I did. They flew us over here in some cargo-plane, dropped us off at the metropolis at dusk, and told us to get going. So then Commander Ferrang took over."

Ari glanced fearfully at Dominic, who was staring at him hungrily. "Go on..." Dominic said menacingly.

Ari shuddered and looked at the ground. "Ferrang, Ferrang... Yeah. So Commander Ferrang told us we were looking for a woman, maybe five foot nine, with long blonde hair and a distinctive dark-brown eyepatch. He said we were going to run down the county road, searching through the houses and stuff. Any house with a dark-blue Subaru Legacy Outback, year 1996, was to be raided completely."

Vortex's eyes widened, and Max sharply inhaled. She knew Vortex had been transferring "machines" form her old building to this Warehouse. The old Subaru Outback was parked outside, partially hidden beneath a huge weeping willow tree.

Ari peeked sideways at Max, then cowered against the steel worktable. "Yeah. Um... um..." He licked his lips and stared at the ceiling. "Yeah. So we sent out our lone Flier too. Nice guy, I think his name was Mac, did you...?" he looked questioningly at Vortex.

Vortex sighed. "Unfortunately, your comrades have been deceased. So, no, he is not coming to rescue you." She adjusted her eyepatch, and her left eye crinkled with a smile. "Please continue."

Ari groaned and facepalmed. "Noo why why me aghk why aghk dammit why whhy... whyy-y-y-" He jolted up right and yelled, **"YAHHH NO, FINE FINE!" **His eyes had a wild look in them. He stared at Dominic and shuddered. "How do you... _do _that..?"

Dominic raised an eyebrow.

"Uhh um," Ari said. He continued, fiddling with a lock of his hair. "Ok. Ok. So. Mac went off, flew into the night air. The rest of us headed down the road, we checked out a couple farmhouses and found nothing. Then Commander Ferrang started swearing and stuff, he said the walkie-talkies had cut out for some reason, and we had to stick together now."

Dominic grinned and winked at Vortex.

"So we kept going. We saw this warehouse down the road, reached it, and spotted that dark blue, 1996 Subaru Legacy Outback. Commander told us to put on the NightEyes, and we did, but they didn't work. They, like, wouldn't turn on for some reason. So Commander got ticked and told us to check all our equipment. Nothing worked, not even the laser-guided Slashblades or the electric-timered bombs. So we freaked. Commander told us to morph, get into wolf-form, and broke us into HitSquads. So then we raided the place." Ari licked his lips and glanced dolefully at Max.

"What?" she said. Her eyelid twitched.

Ari glanced fearfully at Dominic and continued. "So, uh, yeah, we went through the food and saw the smoking barbeque and broke through the door. And the place was dark. Pitch black. So we stood there, trying to adjust our eyes to the blackness."

Fang muttered something to Dominic, who frowned and looked at him. "No, I cannot. I do not trust you to control your rage," Dominic said. He still held Fang's arms behind the back. Fang sulkily looked at Ari. "Well, go on _Ari,_" he spat.

Ari winced and continued. "So the first couple of guys suddenly dropped to the ground and started to go into seizures. One guy had his eyes roll up into his head, and he couldn't breathe. And he kept twitching. He had some sort of puncture-mark on his neck, right next to his jawbone."

"Atropa belladona," Vortex said softly. "The Deadly Nightshade." She had a strange glint in her eye.

"So Commander Ferrang got mad, told us to fall back, switch our bladeguns into manual mode, and started yelling something else. Then he dropped dead." Ari stared at the ground. He looked deeply traumatized.

"Mmm, purified cicutoxin, alcohol emulsion. Northern Water Hemlock," Vortex said under her breath, nodding. She had a miscievous expression hovering around her lips. The wrinkles at the corner of her left eye deepened, and she smiled.

Ari shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, so, um, some of us did what he said, but the rest of us just freaked out and ran into the building. Ferrang was a good guy, see. He knew how to lead a raid. So we wanted revenge. And that's... that's.. all I remember." He sighed and leaned back against the table, exhausted.

"That's good enough, for now," Vortex said soothingly. She leaned down and dug through her pocket.

"Uh, what, what are you doing?" Ari asked nervously. His entire body was shaking.

Vortex quickly straightened up and fired a strange-looking, silvery gun at Ari's chest. Ari gasped and looked down at his uniform. A long, thin plastic ribbon stuck out from the fabric. "What the..." he keeled over, and his jaw dropped open. A faint snore rumbled from the depths of his chest.

"What a disgusting guy," Max said. She stared at Ari's face. A faint network of scars laced across his nose and cheeks. "I wonder what they did to him."

"Well, that something which we shall find out," Vortex said matter-of-factly. She put the silvery gun back into the pocket of her lab-coat. "Dominic, Max, Fang," she said to each of them, looking them in the eye, "We are currently in a very dangerous situation. It is possible that Itex tracked me during my trips to the city. We must move out of here, and quickly." She gestured at the dead Erasers around them. "We cannot help these; they have made much of a mess. Dominic," she said, looking at her brother, "Ari mentioned a flying comrade named Mac. Did you meet up with him in the air?"

"Yup," Dominic said slowly. "He was going after Max. He met his fate in the air." Vortex had turned from them and was collecting jars from the floor, stacking them into a neat pile. "Good," she said, looking towards Dominic. "Please find him and drag him here. When Itex comes, they cannot find him dead in a field. If they do they may suspect the presence of a flying Avian."

Dominic nodded and headed towards the door.

"Max," Vortex said slowly, "I want you to check every Eraser for signs of life. We cannot allow any of them to live. And Fang," she said earnestly, "Collect every single digital device that you can find. Carefully place them in a row, over there." She gestured towards a wall of the warehouse. "I myself will pack up the equipment." She turned and began stacking the jars again. "We must hurry. I want us to be packed and out of here within two hours."

Max glanced anxiously at Fang. _Two hours?_ "This'll be fun," she said to Fang. He shrugged and headed for the nearest body.

The dead Erasers were everywhere, scattered across the warehouse. "What about Ari?" Max called to Vortex.

Vortex had already finished stacking the jars and was striding towards the back wall, where a series of long, reinforced steel tables held her wired machines. "He is sedated. I shot him with a tranquilizing syringe. Leave him be," she shouted.

" 'K," Max glanced at Ari, snoozing crookedly by the overturned, bullet-marked table. He looked like a werewolf. "Wow," Max said. "I really hope we're not bringing him with us."

Vortex smiled.

* * *

INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGICAL ENHANCEMENT, XENOGENE PROJECT

Intelligence Headquarters

Location: Bird Island, Minnesota

Underground Facility, Floor Three

23:48:01 MILITARY TIME

"What the fawk." Brian Kukette pounded his fist on the desk. "We've lost contact with Ferrang, Squads C-4 and C-6," he said into the headset. "Repeat, we have lost contact with Commander Ferrang, Squads C-4 and C-6."

"You have got to be kidding me." He spun his chair so it faced his companion, the only other person in the room. "How the heck did their equipment short out? I thought they were getting the real stuff. The stuff that'd already been field-tested."

Lillian shrugged and pointed at the screen. "Watch. Let's see what happens," she said. "Weird stuff happens on these raids. You know." She stared intently at the screen.

The drone view slowly panned across the landscape, focusing in on the cluster of confused Erasers. The night-vision mode clicked on, and the Erasers were cast into sharp relief, bright pink figures on a dark and gloomy landscape.

The sound of rustling papers flooded the intercoms, and a voice spoke. "Moderator Kukette and Moderator Sanders. Please relay the information pertaining to the loss of contact. Send data sheet code number zero-three-one. And keep an eye on the drone feed. We want to know what is happening."

Lillian Sanders leaned over her keyboard and typed a code into the sleek computer. "Gotcha," she said. "Data sheet zero-three-one on the way." She glanced at the screen and gasped. "Oh wow. This is bad, very bad."

A flickering series of zeroes and ones had completely replaced the video from the drone. "What the hell?" Brian said, leaning forward and frowning. As they watched, the screen flickered with flashes of bright light. Then, suddenly, a view of the Milky Way, highly magnified, appeared on the screen. Dreamy veils of clouds hung around the edges of the view, slowly drifting.

"Wow." Lillian's jaw dropped. "Why would the _drone_ move the camera so it's facing straight _up_?"

The stars twinkled, icy little fireballs of light, nestled in the inky backdrop of outer space.

"This is highly unusual," Lillian said professionally. She grabbed her headset and twisted the mouthpiece. "Greetings, Captain Beard. We have lost the drone feed." She wheeled over to Brian's side and peered at the numbers spilling across the screen. "Ferrang's Squadrons were last registered at forty-five point one-two-one-nine degrees North, ninety-five point zero-four-three-one degrees West. Cause of data transmission interruption is unclear."

There was a click. A slow, methodical German voice came on. "Very good, Moderator Lillian. How many individuals were sent on this raid?"

Lillian glanced at Brian. She put her hand over the mouthpiece. "It's Gunther-Hagen," she mouthed, horrified.

Brian Kukette typed into his computer. "Fifty-two individuals were sent. Forty-nine Regulars, one Flier, and two Alpha-Z's. One of the Alpha-Z's is named Ari Batchelder, has multiple performance defects but is overall a fairly strong prototype. The other is Commander Matteo Ferrang."

A pause. "Thank you, Moderator Kukette, Moderator Lillian. We'll take it from here." The intercom clicked off, and the two Itex agents sat back in their chairs, relieved.

Lillian chewed on a nail. "I would hate to be their target," she said, shaking her head. "They are in for one freaking rough time."

* * *

"Alright, is everybody packed up and ready to go?" Vortex asked, sitting in the driver's seat. She looked in the rearview mirror.

Max and Fang sat in the backseat. Ari's snoring form lay sprawled beside them, in the seat behind Dominic. "I can't believe we're taking him," Fang said. "I cannot believe it."

Dominic laughed, leaning in through the passenger seat window. "It will be fine. Is that everything that is required, Vortex?" he asked, cocking his head. Vortex nodded. "Alrighty. Off we go, then!" He opened the door and jumped into the passenger seat. "Ah, what a lovely night," he said. "Perfect night for a missile attack." He grinned and fastened the seatbelt.

_What did he say?_ Max thought worriedly. A missile attack?

Vortex gunned the engine and they pulled away from the warehouse, setting off down the gravelly dirt road. The headlights clicked on, illuminating the long, flat path.

"How far do you think we must go?" Dominic asked Vortex. The top of his wings brushed the roof of the car.

"Hm, perhaps five miles or so," she said thoughtfully. "We are approaching the highway. When we get there, it should be safe."

Max leaned against Fang, who put his arm around her. Fang shifted, trying to move away from Ari's inert form.

They pulled onto the highway. It was completely deserted.

"Okay, Dominic," Vortex said. "I think we are far enough now." She pulled over to the side of the road and smiled at her brother. "Best of luck, Nikolai!"

Dominic grinned at them and stepped out the passenger-seat door. A gust of chilly air filled the Subaru as the stars twinkled in the night sky above. "I will be back as soon as possible," Dominic said excitedly. He winked at Max and Fang. "You're in for a treat," he said. "Keep your eyes in the direction we came. It may get interesting." With that he waved at them and jogged onto the road, running in the beam of their headlights. Then, with a huge _shoop_-ing sound, he unfurled his massive wings, spanning the highway, and launched into the air.

Vortex turned and smiled. "How's it going back there?" she asked. Max shrugged. "We're fine." "Yup," Fang said. Ari snored.

"Okay, very good, very good," she said, slightly nervously. "We shall see how Dominic holds up. Yes, this is certainly one of the biggest attempts he's made so far."

"Uh... that doesn't sound good," Fang said. Vortex smiled enigmatically and pointed out the passenger-side window. "Keep an eye peeled in that direction," she said slowly. "This will be good. Yes, very, very good." She laughed, then turned from them and rolled up the passenger-side window.

_Uh-oh. This is very, very weird._ Max sighed and hugged Fang.

The minutes ticked by. Fang wrapped his arm tighter around Max's shoulders, and she relaxed, leaning her back into his warmth. His feathers tickled the back of her neck. She listened to him breathe, his chest rising and falling against her right wing. She wondered how the rest of the Flock was doing.

The glowing readout on the dashboard said it was 12:22 a.m.. She fought back a yawn.

Suddenly, Fang gripped her arm. "Over there," he said urgently, pointing. Max craned her head and stared out the window.

A blinking white light had suddenly appeared, far off in the distant horizon. With each passing second, it seemed to be coming closer. _What the heck is **that**_? Max thought, alarmed.

Vortex grinned. "I must see this clearly," she said happily. She opened the driver's-side door and stepped outside.

"What the-" Fang said.

A huge, blinding flash of light erupted on the edge of the horizon, sending a roaring ball of fire up into the blackened night. For a brief second, the land around them was cast into sharp relief, like it was daylight. Vortex ducked into the van and shut the door. "Cover your ears!" she yelled. A huge, rippingly loud BOOM rocked the car, and a huge blast of dirt splattered the passenger side of the car, covering the windows with muck. "YAA-HAAHAHAHA!" Vortex shrieked. "THIS IS _EXCELLENT!_" A series of deafening rumbling sounds growled through the pavement, violently vibrating the car and causing Max to accidentally bite her tongue. The taste of blood filled her mouth. "WHAT THE HELL?" bellowed Fang as he ripped his seat belt free. He tried to stand, but Vortex held out her hand. The rumbles died out.

"Apologies," she said, still smiling. A few random chuckles escaped her lips, and she shook her head, looking down. "That was the first missile strike," she said hysterically, frantically holding back her laughter. Her blonde hair cascaded wildly around her eyepatch. "The second one is coming soon. Hold tight!" She climbed out of the car and shut the door.

"Oh. My. Effing. God," Max said. She willed herself to breathe.

"We're hanging out with a bunch of Psychos," Fang said, his face pale.

Ari grunted and snored louder than before.

Vortex rushed into the car, eyepatch askew. "Here we go again!"

A second flash of light, blindingly white, flashed through the dirt caking the windows on the passenger side. The white flash instantly changed to a crimson red as a second fiery explosion ripped through the landscape. "DOMINIC IS DOING THIS?" Max shrieked, fear beating a frantic staccatto in her chest. Fang panted nervously and attempted to stand up again. "_SIT DOWN!" _Vortex screamed. A huge _BAMMMMM _rocked the car, causing it to violently tilt onto its left-side car fell back to level ground, and the headlights shattered and died. _BOOO-OOOM._ A faint spiderweb of cracks appeared on the passenger-side windows and laced across the drivers' windshield. With a final groan, the rumbles faded and the car settled into silence.

Fang picked himself up from the floor of the car and looked around. "WHAT THE HELL WAS _THAT?_" he screamed, pointing accusingly at Vortex's face. "_WHY DIDN'T YOU WARN US ABOUT THIS?_"

Max clutched a hand to her eyes. A faint bright spot floated on the back of her eyelids. "Vortex," she said dangerously, "You better tell us what's happening, _right now,_ or Fang and I are leaving and never coming back." She glared at the eyepatched woman, and the bright spots floated across her vision. "Right now."

Vortex leaned euphorically into the back of her seat. "Ahh, yes, yes. So, you see, an Itex drone was keeping watch over the Erasers," she said calmly. "The model and design was clearly diagrammed in the Itex database," she said, turning earnestly to Max and Fang. "So Dominic flew up there just now and triggered its dual-missile system, launching them towards the warehouse. By the sound of it, we had a direct hit," she said happily, turning and fiddling with the starter key. The car started up, and she turned to them again. "So. It appears that the missiles were spiked with a payload of synthetic polyester explosives, relatively small, but enough to do significant damage to the target. It is a good thing that the warehouse was surrounded with empty farmland. Now," she said, undoing the parking brake, "It is time to get out of here."

"Where's Dominic?" Max asked curiously. "Shouldn't we wait for him?"

Vortex shook her head. "Nope, he is going to take down the entire plane," she said briskly. "We must get out of here. The plane is larger than I thought, judging by the fact that it had such large weapons." She floored the pedal and they pulled away from the side of the highway with a grinding crunch. They set off down the road, with Max glancing anxiously out the back window.

A pair of red, blinking lights had appeared, high up in the distance. It was coming closer.

"Uh, Vortex?" she said urgently. "I think you should hurry."

Vortex floored it.

* * *

The explosion lit up the night sky, painting the horizon behind them with a bright, pale pink dawn. Flickers of electricity sparked in the depths of the glow. "Wow," Fang said, craning his head back. Ari grunted and mumbled something.

As they sped down the darkened roadway, no headlights, at seventy-five miles an hour, a dark shadow swooped and skimmed along the ditch beside them. "Dominic," Max said. Vortex nodded and pulled over, screeching the brakes. "I can't believe we're driving without headlights," Fang groaned. "This is fawking unbelievable."

They skidded to a halt. The dark shadow swooped and fanned out its wings, sliding to a halt in the gravel bordering the road. Vortex rolled down the window. "Yo," Dominic said cheerily. "Fun time. I didn't expect to deal so much damage." He yanked open the door and climbed into the front seat. "Ahh," he sighed, sinking his head back against the cushion. "That was fun." He shut the door, and a piece of the window fell out onto the gravel.

A lone, far-off siren sounded. Vortex dug under the glovebox and pulled out a weird pair of goggles. "Night vision," she explained, glancing at Fang and Max. "I usually use this for night trips." She slung them over her eyepatch and fastened it tight. "Here we go again," she said, revving up the car and spinning the driver's wheel.

They pulled away from the roadside and regained speed. "Gotta get out of here," Vortex said as Dominic munched on a bag of cookies from under the seat. Ari groaned and muttered something, clutching his face, and Max blinked in shock.

Fang held up the remnants of his seat belt. He sighed. "Oh well. I guess I won't be needing _this_ anymore." He tossed it at Ari's head and leaned back, putting his arm around Max.

Max couldn't believe what had just happened. She stared, first at Vortex, wearing the night goggles, then at Dominic, munching lazily at the cookies. _Those two are completely insane,_ she thought disbelievingly. _Completely and utterly insane._

They drove off down the highway, completely unaware of the events they had set into motion.

An immense war was coming.

And they had started it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy the story so far. I planned to begin a second story, called "Max and Fang: Apocalyptic Dawn," but I later realized that Max and the rest of the gang haven't reached that point in time yet. So I'm continuing this story until it gets really good, then I will transition into Apocalyptic Dawn. I hope you enjoy! =D ~NightSoaringAngel**

* * *

Max combed her hair and glared at herself in the bathroom mirror. It fogged up and she swiped it with her hand, then stared at her reflection again.

Her brown, green-flecked eyes stared back and seemed to mock her. _Maximum Ride,_ they seemed to say, _who's the hero now, huh? ...Not you, girl, definitely not you..._ Max closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose, then exhaled slowly. She opened her eyes again and scrutinized her reflection.

Her tawny-brown hair cascaded wetly around her shoulders, forming a tangled mass and framing her freshly-washed face. Her eyebrows hovered above her almondine eyes, which stared at her thoughtfully. And slowly, dreamily, the steam in the air fogged up the glass, fading her appearance into misty white.

Max dropped the comb in the sink and stretched. Behind her was the deliciously hot, steaming bath, with the water slowly swirling out through the drain. A tightly-placed supply stand stood in one corner, packed with hair-care items, curling irons, combs, brushes, sprays and straighteners. The rest of the room was taken up by the toilet and the sink, with the mirror above. The bathroom fan whirred softly above.

Max exhaled deeply, and all the stress and tension of the trip melted away. She turned and dug for a hair iron and straightening spray, then stretched out a wing and got to work. It had been ages since she'd properly groomed her feathers, and she was glad the equipment was all here.

She lifted a tawny pinion feather and spritzed it with liquid, then quickly ran the iron over it. A puff of steam puffed off the feather as it settled back in place. Already it looked smoother and neater than the others.

The bathtub gurgled as the last of the water drained out, and the relaxing swirls of steamy fog kissed her face.

_Here we go,_ Max said, rolling back her shoulders and stretching the wing farther. This would take another hour, at the very least.

She lifted a second feather, spritzed it, and got to work.

* * *

**I**NSTITUTE OF **T**ECHNOLOGICAL **E**NHANCEMENT, **X**ENOGENE PROJECT

Location: Barstow, California; Secret Underground Facility

03:52:21 MILITARY TIME

Hans Gunther-Hagen walked beside Professor Edgar T. Marrow, staring in disbelief at the jars of preserved creatures lining the shelves on either side. The entire corridor was packed with the jars; from floor to ceiling, strange, half-mutant animals floated in their distilled formaldehyde- and alcohol-mixtures. Several jars had a thin, reddish film on the bottom layer; with a start, Hans realized it was preserved blood. Blood that had seeped from the creatures after they'd been freshly killed.

Professor Marrow abruptly stopped and held out his hand. "Before we proceed to the labs, it is necessary that I point out a few important specimens," he said. His icy-blue eyes twinkled underneath his white brows. "For instance, take a look at this one." He pressed a tiny button on the shelf beneath a particularly large jar on a bottom rung, and a bright light lit up, shining through the back of the polished container. "This is a specimen of particularly fine quality. A prototype Komodone. Please, take a close look." He leaned back and gestured for Hans to examine the creature.

A half-withered, yellowish-white specimen was suspended in the middle of the huge jar. It was curled into a fetal position, and its entire body was covered with delicate, tiny scales. What creeped Hans out was the humanoid quality of the thing. Its head was slightly pointed, like a newborn puppy's; but it had human ears and wispy human hair trailing from its scalp. It had human knees and feet, but the toes ended in sharp, talon-like claws. The mouth snarled with sharp fangs.

"What on earth-" Hans breathed, misting up the glass.

A tiny lizard tongue, shriveled and pale cream, was clenched between the pointy-sharp fangs.

Marrow chuckled drily. "It looks impressively strange, does it not? Yes, that was our prototype Komodone, the very first one we made. Lived barely a day; it had a severe melanocytic mutation that greatly reduced its ability to warm itself under lamplight."

Hans looked up at him, brow furrowed in disbelief. "Is this a half-human, _half-Komodo _hybrid?" he exclaimed hysterically. "Why did I not hear about this sooner?"

Marrow sighed. "Hans, Hans. You of all people should know the dangers of leaking information. Is that right? You are, after all, Director of Viral and Microbiological research, are you not? ...Do you remember that scandal with the antifreeze-bacteria, how the news got out and the specimens were stolen?" He sneered scathingly, and his white halo of hair seemed to frazzle up with static. "And somehow that upstart genetics company spliced the genes into their tomato plants and created a frost-resistant line. Yes, that was less than three years ago, if I remember correctly. So, Dr. Gunther-Hagen, I hope you will pardon me for not informing _you_ of every tiny development that proceeds through my laboratories. Yes, I certainly hope you will understand."

The Professor turned and Gunther-Hagen stared disbelievingly at the white-coated figure, willing himself not to knock the goddamned man out. Marrow chuckled again and pointed to another huge jar on a bottom shelf, opposite from the one with the Komodone.

"Now _this_ one shows incredible promise. Panthera prototype, Stage Two. Please, take a look." He clicked the button and the jar lit up.

A strange, twisted, chubby figure lay at the bottom of its glass tomb. Its fat, chubby paws seemed to reach up towards the lid of the jar, and its cute, mewling mouth was slightly open, showing stubby little teeth. It looked, for all the world, like a fat and huge, well-grown kitten.

"Where are the human characteristics?" Hans asked, squinting at the thing.

Professor Marrow leaned down and pointed at various parts of the creature. "The ears, though they are slightly pointed, are predominantly the same as a human infant's. The inner mouth, the tongue, and the larynx are almost completely humanoid. The brain, also, is mostly human, and you can see that by observing the cranial structures and overal large head size."

He turned and looked thoughtfully at his colleague, rubbing his chin with his fingers. "You see, Hans," he said slowly, "the most difficult thing with developing xenogenic organisms is the mixing of the DNA. It has to be in the right proportions, otherwise horrible mutations can occur. This specimen, unfortunately, had a perforated colon, various spinal deformities, and three extra gallbladders. The innards are the hardest to get right."

Hans involuntarily recoiled from the jar.

"Last specimen that I'd like you to see," Marrow said, turning away. "This one will take decades and decades to develop, I think." He pointed high up to the very top shelf, where thousands of glistening, tiny jars were stacked on top of each other. "Now where is that stool..." Marrow glanced around distractedly. He turned and glared sternly at Hans. "Some idiot misplaced the stool. I'll be back in a minute. Don't touch anything except the buttons, Hans; security here is _very_ secure." He whipped around, lab coat rustling, and strode down the corridor, taking a right near the entrance door.

Dr. Hans Gunther-Hagen stared at the surrounding stacks of jars. _This laboratory must cost billions,_ he thought, gritting his teeth.

Hans didn't think the future of technological warfare lay in the development of chimerical humans. The future, he _knew,_ lay in microbial warfare. Microbes were _much_ more versatile and had the ability to target huge swathes of the human population. _Chimerical humans,_ on the other hand, wouldn't have much attack value, he thought grimly. Then again, how was _he_ to know...

He craned down and began scanning the jars.

Floating, gristly, grimacing figures. Paws, claws, _fins,_ sharp appendages that looked like horny spikes. He saw something that looked like a baby demon, and something that strangely resembled a newborn sphinx. There were feathers, clumps of fur, sheaths of spines. The jars higher up looked creepily like human embryos, except for the gills, spikey tails, strange, snakelike eyes, and hairy abdomens. Hans shuddered and closed his eyes. He felt nauseous.

"I'm back," Professor Marrow huffed. He set down the stool and clambered onto it with surprising agility for a white-haired man. "Here we go." He reached into his pocket and took out a calculator-like device, punched in a string of numbers, then placed it into his pocket and reached out, delicately grabbing a jar. "This one, like I said, will take decades to develop. It is a new line, and the complications number in the thousands." He carefully stepped off the ladder and held the jar so Hans could see. "Look closely, and tell me what you think."

Hans gasped.

Inside the jar was a tiny, curled-up fetus. It was a pale, lime-green color, and had bulbous, dark-green, pupil-free eyes.

Professor Marrow grinned. His sharp canines glinted from the fluorescent lights, and Hans stared into the jar. "That's right Hans. We have done the unthinkable, the unimaginable... the _impossible." _

Staring back at him, with its glassy, dead eyes, the lime-green fetus seemed to have the ghost of a smile around its lips, as if knowing it had been the first. Professor Marrow tilted the jar slightly, causing the fetus to turn.

Curling up from the top of its head was a leaf.


	14. Chapter 14

Max sighed and set the hair iron on the wooden stand. It had been nearly half an hour, and her wings finally felt clean and well-groomed. She stretched one out and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Sleek and elegant. Finally, she was back to her normal self.

She left the room and was greeted by the sight of the main room of the motel. The dark-brown carpet stretched across the floor, with a small T.V. on one side of the room and a ratty black couch on the other, where Dominic and Fang sat. A short, shiny T.V. table was set next to the couch, and a pair of cream-colored beds filled the rest of the room.

Facing the beds was a long, clicking line of metallic machines. Some were the size of the T.V. and others were small, about the size of her fist. All of them were laced with wires and tiny blinking lights.

"Hey Max," Fang said, eyes on the screen. Dominic sat next to him, with a liter-sized Coca-Cola gripped tightly in his hand. With a start, Max noticed Ari, sitting on the floor by the couch near Dominic. He was half-hidden by the huge armrest and Dominic's massive form.

"Hey," Max said. "How's it going?" Max was rooming with Vortex, but the guys had made the room their home base, on account of the food. Three boxes of pizza lay open on the stout T.V. table. The juicy smell of pepperoni wafted to Max's nose, and her mouth watered.

"Goin' good!" Dominic said, his eyes glued to the screen. With a wave of his hand, he gestured at the pizza boxes. "We saved a box for you, Max," he said, glancing at her. He turned back to the screen. "Please help yourself." Max scrutinized Dominic's face, then looked at Fang's and then Ari's. All of them had a look of intense concentration.

Fang reached forward and grabbed the remote, then increased the volume. "Breaking News," the anchor said. "Just last night, an unbelievable series of events transpired in the farm country surrounding the city of...

Max's eyes turned to the screen, and her mouth fell open. Hovering next to the anchor's head was an aerial image of a cratered blastzone surrounded by farmland.

"...And so we turn to our newscaster, Mark Crilley. Mark?" The camera switched to a grey-suited reporter standing in front of an empty field. The rich dirt stretched off into the distance, where a vague smoke plume was barely visible. The reporter nodded. "Thank you, Brian," he said. "As we all know, the mysterious sequence of events happened at approximately midnight last night. Residents in nearby farmhouses reported a series of three amazingly loud explosions, each of which lit up the night. We obtained this video from a witness of the event."

The screen switched to a grainy video. The video was black, with excited voices in the background. Then, suddenly, a large, glowing-red fireball appeared, pluming its way up to the sky. Moments later, a scratchy _boom_ sounded and the grainy video shuddered. The camera switched back to the grey-suited reporter in the field.

"Local authorities are not commenting on the incident, and attempts to film the explosion site was thwarted by FBI officials. Local authorities _have_ said that the explosions were caused by an aircraft of some sort. The scene is currently under investigation. Brian?" The camera switched back to the news anchor. "Thank you, Mark. That's Mark Crilley, reporting live from the field. In an interesting development regarding the incident, the United States Defense Department held a press conference early this morning..."

Max turned and looked at the three guys. "_We _did this..." In a way, it was great. Max felt like they were getting revenge against Itex.

Ari grimaced and pointed at the screen. Max glared at him for a bit, and suddenly realized that he looked slightly more human. A confused feeling spread through her heart, then she turned and looked back at the screen.

It showed a group of suited men and women, standing behind a podium bristling with microphones. A series of loud flashes and snaps sounded, then stopped as the woman behind the podium raised her hand. It was the Department of Defense Spokeswoman Lucy Marionnel. She smiled at the cameras, then said slowly: "We come here today to discuss the circumstances surrounding the crash of the governmental research aircraft, the B-70684. Investigations are currently underway. However, we can say with certainty that the crash was related to a highly-sophisticated hacking incident. This incident affected a major aircraft control center..."

"Can you believe this?" Fang pounded his fist on the table. "She's covering up. TELL. THEM. THE F***ING. TRUTH," he said, accentuating his words with viscious fist-pounds. "Ssh, listen," Dominic said quietly, his eyes glued to the screen. He raised a blonde eyebrow and took a sip from his liter of Cola.

"The hacking incident was extremely powerful, as it managed to bypass major firewalls and defense systems that had been put in place." Marionell paused, and the cameras flashed. "It is with increasing certainty that the hacking was caused by a foreign governmental power, namely, the country of Malta." She paused again, and the cameras clicked.

"WHAT? This is freaking outrageous!" Max glared at the woman onscreen. "What is she doing? I thought her job was to _prevent_ fighting between countries, not to provoke it!" Max pointed a quavering finger at the television screen. "Do you see what she's _doing?"_ she asked, staring wide-eyed at the trio before her. "She's _lying_ about what happened!"

Ari moaned and put his head between his knees, rocking back and forth. "It's started," he muttered nervously. "It's already begun, already, al-_ready..."_

Dominic reassuringly patted Ari on the head. Fang reached forward and lazily grabbed a slice of pizza from the box. He bit into it and sat back on the couch, arms and legs akimbo. "Mmf, that's her problem," he said nonchalantly. "And hey, where's Vortex?"

"Watch," Dominic said sternly, brow furrowed. He pointed to the screen and set the Cola down on the floor, resting his chin on his fist and staring intently.

Ari slyly reached around the couch and grabbed it, then surreptuously uncapped it and started to chug.

"...therefore, steps are being taken to secure the country from further attacks. It is our duty to ensure the safety of the country, and we will do everything we can." With that, the Spokeswoman stepped back, and a flurry of camera snapshots reflected off the wood of the podium. Reporters began to call out questions, and a cool-looking FBI dude with black sunglasses and a wired earpiece stepped up and took her place.

There was a knock on the door, and everyone jumped. "It's Vortex," the muffled voice said through the doorway. "We now have a year's supply of batteries!" Fang leapt up from his seat and dashed for the door, unlocking the deadbolt.

Vortex rushed in, her arms full of strange paper bags. "Hi everyone," she said breathlessly. She carefully placed the bags in the corner of the room, then straightened up, brushing off her hands. "Like I said, a year's worth of batteries. This'll power the machines very well." Fang sat back on the couch and Vortex briskly walked back to the doorway. "I have several bags of food and other supplies, also," she said cheerily. She left and carefully closed the door.

Max glanced at Dominic and saw a grin hovering near the corner of his mouth. "What is it?" she asked curiously. He grinned. "Ah, Vortex," he said, shaking his head. He caught Max's questioning gaze and pointed to the paper bags, in the corner next to the dimly clicking machines. "She bought raw chemicals." He beamed at her and turned back to the television.

Max sighed and made her way to the bags. Kneeling next to a microwave-sized, caged spinning apparatus, she opened the bags and peeked inside. _Colloidal copper. Silver and platinum plates, 3/4 inch. Copper wire; sodium bisulfate powder... magnesium oxide, ammonium chloride, pure-grade graphite, aluminum foil..._ "I don't see how she does it," Max said, in awe and slightly annoyed.

"WHOA!" Fang and Dominic leaned toward the screen as one. "What is it?" Max said in shock. She noticed Ari was staring at the screen as well, arms wrapped around his knees. The empty Coke bottle stood, capped, by his side.

"IT'S GUNTHER-HAGEN'S _WIFE!" _Fang croaked in disbelief. Max's jaw dropped.

An elegant, brown-haired woman with short-cut hair was standing behind the awesome FBI man, hands behind her back. She had severe eyebrows and a piercing gaze that drilled into the cameras like a hawk's. "Wow... what does _she_ do?" Max said. She sat against the couch armrest near Fang and helped herself to a slice of pizza.

"She is the Communications Director for ITEX, I am certain of it," Dominic said thoughtfully. Fang chewed a pizza crust. "Weird," Fang said, "but I can actually see Hans and her getting along." He raised his eyebrows and reached for another pizza slice.

Vortex entered the room again and deposited a load of groceries by the television, then smiled and left the room again.

Ari grumbled something, and Dominic patted his head again. "Ari, my man! Eat! This food is yours as well!" Ari glared suspiciously at the pizza over his folded arms and buried his head between his knees again.

"Ungrateful wretch," Fang muttered. "Ari, guess what? You could walk away from here, from us, and no one would stop you. So why don't you?" He stared at the wolf-man hybrid. "Well, why not?"

Ari looked up and glared at Fang with a look of pure hatred, which quickly turned to one of embarrassment as Dominic leaned over and eyed the empty Coke bottle. "Excellent," Dominic said good-naturedly, "I left that there on purpose, because I wanted you to get sugar into your system. Here, eat, Ari my friend." He tore the cardboard lid off the box and placed five pizza slices on top of it, then balanced it on the couch armrest.

Ari groaned and waved away the slices. "You people are too _nice,_" he hissed weakly, and hid his face between his arms, shaking his head.

_Two Hours Later._

Max lay sleepless in her bed. Vortex snoozed in the other bed across from the nightstand. The guys had left the room long ago, with Ari rooming with Dominic and Fang sleeping out in the car. Max had tried to sleep, too, but was constantly being haunted by the strange _clicks_ and _whirrs_ coming from the weird machines across from the beds. It reminded her of the School, and she hated it.

With a groan, she rolled out of bed and squinted at the clock. _Eleven-thirty. _She was bone-tired, but she knew for sure she couldn't sleep in here. Heck, maybe she'd sleep out on the roof. Or in the trees bordering the parking lot. She'd slept outside before, and it wasn't too bad. But the noisy highway across the parking lot might be an annoyance...

She grabbed a key from the nightstand and tiptoed across the room, careful not to wake Vortex. Vortex snoozed soundlessly, the black eyemask making her look like a drowsing raccoon.

Max slowly opened the door and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

The cool night air brushed against her face. Dull yellow light washed across the edges of the building and spread across the pavement, while the nearby highway brightened occasionally with a passing truck.

The night sky was overcast, but in the watery streetlights shone on the dim silhouette of Fang, perched atop the Subaru. He was staring at the highway and the city lights beyond.

"Fang?" Max said. She walked up to the car and looked up. Fang looked down, saw her, and grinned. "Heya Max. How's it going?" He slid down from the car's roof and landed lightly by her side. Max looked up into his dark eyes, and he looked softly down at her. "We should talk," Max said lightly.

She nodded her head towards a security camera, mounted at the base of the low-hanging roof. "Oh. Sure," Fang said. "Where should we...? The roof?" Max nodded, and she walked with him to the side of the motel. An empty dumpster sat beside the building, and she jumped onto it, then clambered onto the gently-sloping, shingled roof. Fang followed behind her.

They sat on the roof and stared at the lonely highway below. "Not much traffic," Fang said quietly. He put an arm around Max, and she felt his warmth flood through her shoulders.

Max sighed. "Fang... I've been thinking." She paused as Fang rubbed her shoulder, then she sighed again. "Fang... we have to find the rest of the Flock. I mean, Vortex and Dominic are a great help, but... I think it's time we split off from them, and set off on our own."

Fang rubbed her shoulder in silence, staring up at the clouds blanketing the sky. "I was thinking the same thing," he said.

"So should we do it?" Max clutched her knees to her chest, and felt the chill air blow through her hair. Vortex and Dominic could help them, that much was certain. But now that they had Ari to work with, the two siblings seemed distracted and almost disorganized. Fang dropped his arm from around Max's shoulders and wearily rubbed his face, then stared back up at the sky. "We can't say goodbye to them just like that," he said gently. "They saved my life, and took down a drone from Itex. They've done a lot." Max nodded her head and stared at the highway. A lone semi appeared and zoomed into the distance, tires humming.

"Dominic and Vortex are _geniuses_," she said softly, "Complete and utter _geniuses. _So...I think we should break free from them, but stay in contact. Talk to them and stuff. They can help us find information about the Flock, and about Itex." The thought of the institution flashed memories through her mind. She huddled her knees closer to her chest and sighed again. "It's been gnawing at me," she said suddenly. "Thoughts of the School..." She felt Fang's arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. Warmth radiated from his body. And all of a sudden, she knew everything was going to be alright.

Fang's hot breath tickled her ear, and she closed her eyes.

Then, with a warm tenderness she had never felt before, Fang gently kissed her, holding her softly between his arms.


	15. Chapter 15

Max sat beside Fang on the subway train, staring blankly out the window as the tunnel walls flashed by. The goodbye to Vortex and Dominic raced through her mind, and she gnawed her lip. "I wonder if we made the right decision," she said softly.

She felt Fang shift beside her. "We made the right decision," he said firmly.

"How can you be so sure? Vortex was a freaking Genius. Dominic could probably lift a car off the street. Together, they could have-" Fang gently put his hand on her knee, and she stopped talking. Max glanced at him, startled. "What?'

Fang looked into her eyes, and she was shocked by his serious expression. His jet-black eyebrows furrowed. "I know we did the right thing, Max, because Dominic's a Cyborg."

Icy tendrils ripped through Max's chest. The world seemed to flash-freeze, and her heart pounded deafeningly loud in her ears. She couldn't breathe.

Then the world came roaring back.

She gripped Fang's hand tightly and stared at the passengers sitting in the subway car with them. The train was packed and full of noisy conversation. A gaggle of old women were talking about some big crochet project, a teenaged boy stood sullenly nearby, gripping the rails and listening to an iPod. A bunch of guys in business suits were surfing the web on their expensive, high-tech iPhones.

Max turned and stared at Fang. His dark, solemn eyes stared unflinchingly back.

"He's a... a..."

Fang nodded wearily. "A Cyborg. I saw proof of it last week."

Max gulped.

"I woke up early, you know, since I had to sleep in that stuffy old car. With all that machinery that Vortex loaded in there. Anyways..." He glanced around, then leaned close and muttered, "I decided to-"

_"ATTENTION. WE ARE APPROACHING 1ST STREET AND NELSON AVENUE. PLEASE CARRY ALL YOUR BELONGINGS WITH YOU... WE ARE APPROACHING 1ST STREET AND NELSON AVENUE."_

The announcement blared through the subway car, momentarily silencing the chattering riders and cutting Fang off. People rose to their feet and grabbed their suitcases. The train slowly lurched to a halt amid the hissing noise of pneumatic brakes, and Fang sullenly crossed his arms.

Max stared through the window facing her. The large, well-lit subway station outside was crammed with waiting commuters clutching their purses and shopping bags and toddler's hands. The subway car rapidly emptied, then filled again. An aged woman sat beside Max, and a group of excited teenagers gossiped in the aisle, clutching the ceiling rings. A loud babble of noise enveloped the crowded car.

The doors closed with a _hiss_ and Fang leaned into her again. His breath tickled her ear, filling Max with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"Anyways," Fang said, "The car was full of machinery, right? So I started to think. What _kind_ of machinery?"

The subway began to creak forward, sending random vibrations through the cushioned seats.

"Most of it looked like chemistry stuff. But there was also box that said "First Aid." It had several locks on it, but I was curious. I picked the locks, and saw computer chips, scalpels, thin copper wires, magnifying lenses... A whole bunch of computer materials _and_ surgical tools, right next to the "sedatives" and "hydrogen peroxide". And that's when I realized what he was."

Max started to speak, but Fang held up his hand.

"Think about it, Max. Dominic interferes with other machines... _using only his mind._ He's buff... _and he never works out._ He eats a shipload of food each day, he carried us _fifty-eight miles,_ _**by himself,**_from the forest, through the fawking air... _he's got a __**twenty-two foot wingspan**_**.** ...And get this. I asked Ari why he hated Dominic so much, and..."

Max raised an eyebrow. "That's right," Fang said grimly, "I can't stand his freakish dog guts. But I asked him. He said he hated-_and feared-_ Dominic, 'cause whenever he acted out, this piercing-shrill sound shrieked through his mind. Because Dominic glared at him and sent it. And, hell! You know why Ari could hear it and _we couldn't_? Because Ari's part fawking _mutt_, and his hearing is off the charts!"

Fang gritted his teeth, and Max could see him fighting back his anger.

"Also," Fang said slowly. "You've seen Dominic cock his head a lot. It wasn't _birdlike,_ it was _robotic._ Vortex bought...'materials'... for a years' supply of batteries. It was for her machines..._and for _DOMINIC."

Max took a deep breath.

Fang's voice dropped even lower. "They've been on the run, _together,_ for _fifteen years._ Fifteen years, because Vortex said they escaped when she was eight..."

Max bit her lip. "And she's twenty-three now. But how does that-"

"She taught herself surgery and she learned how to build machines... BUT WHY?" Fang glared darkly at the noisy crowd surrounding them, then turned back to Max. "To repair Dominic. Fifteen years is a long time to go without maintenance, _when you're part freaking machine... _He's a Cyborg, Max. A genetically-modified Avian Human _with machine enhancements_. ... A. Motherfawking. Cyborg Avian. And with _that_ amount of technology implanted in him," he spat, "how do we know Itex wasn't_ tracking us all along?"_

Max rolled her shoulders back and stared up at the ceiling. The metal surface was layered with air ducts, heating vents, fluorescent lights, mesh-covered speakers. _The world is waay more complicated than I thought,_ she reflected. _A __**whole freaking lot**__ more complicated. _Even something as simple-looking as a subway car had a mind-blowingly intricate number of layers... computer chips, sensors, security cameras, insulation...

Nothing was ever what it seemed on the surface...

Fang sulkily zipped his hood up and leaned his arm against the nearby handrail.

Max turned and made up her mind. "You could be right. But don't think of him that way," she said sternly. "He was nice! A great guy! And he-"

"It's not him I'm afraid of, Max. It's Itex." Fang sat, hunched over, twirling the smartphone in his hands. It had been given to them by the siblings, so Max and Fang could keep in touch.

A disturbing idea formed in Max's mind. She felt an icy-cold sensation plunge through the pit of her stomach. "Hey, Fang... Dominic's twenty, right?" Fang nodded grimly. "And we're eighteen. So if...if Itex created Dominic twenty years ago... and created us eighteen years ago..." She paused, and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. "They must have had a lot of technology back then. And look. Ari was born a human, and they _altered him_ when he was a _toddler..._ and he's thirteen today. He survived. He lived."

Max gripped Fang's arm, her knuckles turning white.

"Fang. If they had that much technology... that long ago... What has Itex been doing for the last _decade?_"

The noisy chatter of the train washed against their ears.

"I don't know, Max," Fang whispered, voice cracking. He shook his hooded head and stared at the smartphone. "I don't know."


	16. Chapter 16

Institute of Technological Enhancement: Xenogene Project

16:32:45 MILITARY TIME

Location: Barstow, California

The doors opened with a lingering _hiss,_ releasing a puff of frozen fog into the air. Professor Marrow pocketed the card key and stepped into the room, followed closely by Gunther-Hagen.

They were in a narrow corridor, lined with plastic, orange, full-body suits on metal hooks. Long shelves of gloves were piled above. "Time to gear up," Marrow said. He grabbed a medium-sized suit and tossed it to Gunther-Hagen. "Make sure you cover all your skin, Hans. That includes your neck and your wrists. The decontamination shower is in the next room, and the liquid is slightly caustic." Marrow stepped into a suit and zipped it up, gesturing for Gunther-Hagen to do the same.

"The gloves are up there, and the boots are below," Marrow pointed. "Headgear comes last. Make sure you cover your neck correctly."

They finished suiting up. The high-tech headgear turned on with a faint _click,_ and fresh air began to circulate from a fan near the back. Hans peered through the clear plastic window at the Professor, gritting his teeth. "Edgar, I _am_ the Director of Viral and Microbiological Research. You don't have to tell me how to-"

"Protocols," Marrow said briskly as he strode towards the opposite door. "Gotta set the right example for the Newbies, eh?" He waved his hand at some concealed camera and the door opened. "That's it?" Hans said in surprise. "That's all the security you-"

Marrow turned in the doorway, shaking his finger.

"Hans, Hans, you are a fool. In the past minute, I have successfully engaged the eye scanner, spoken the security password, deactivated the deadly-gas cycle in the headgear, and notified the security team of my intent to pass through the _decontamination shower_ rather than the _dismemberment shower._ I've additionally verified my identity through voice-recognition. And you are alive simply because I notified my team of this tour. How nice of me. So! Hurry up and get over here, Hans." Marrow's creepy white hair waved inside his headgear. He looked like a freaking mad scientist.

_Hell. He __**is **__mad. _Hans gritted his teeth and strode through the doorway.

They were in a tiny, closed room with reflective glass windows on all sides. Their mirror-like images stared back at them, and Hans guessed the security team was watching them from the other side. The small ceiling above was perforated with strange vents and showerheads.

"Here we go!" Marrow said, cackling. A faint mist started to spray from the showers, quickly turning into a thick drizzle and then a full-out blast of liquid. Then, as suddenly as it started, the spray tapered off, leaving their suits dripping wet. "Excellent," Marrow said as a blast of air dried them off. "Now to the labs." He strode through a steel door as it opened. Hans followed.

What he saw made his jaw drop. "My god," he whispered in disbelief.

They stood on a wide platform lined with railings. The platform curved completely around a huge drop which plunged deep into the earth. Many levels of platforms were visible below, where white-coated workers pushed supply carts and carried clipboards. A strange creature-tethered in a cage- was wheeled along a level far below.

Each platform was illuminated by lights embedded under the platform above. High up, a faintly-lit, curved ceiling was covered in catwalks, where hunched, dark-cloaked figures patrolled.

"Welcome to the Central Division of the Xenogenic Project." Professor Marrow began to walk briskly forward, waving his orange-suited arms in the air. "We have much to see! And much to do! Come quickly, Hans," he said, turning and glaring. "We don't want you to pick up pathogens by daddling around. Hurry up."

They passed doors and hallways, all shooting off from the level like spokes from a wheel. They turned and walked down a hallway and entered the first door to their right. "The Wash Room," Professor Marrow said. They entered.

By the looks of it, it was another shower room, without the mirrors. "What the frick?" Hans said as he looked at the bare cement and mirrored walls. The big difference was that the room was split into separate wide stalls, with huge arrays of bottled chemicals on a bench in each one. Translucent-wavy doors sealed each stall. "What the hell is this?"

"These are the full decontamination showers, for people descending to the lowest levels. Get into one and follow the instructions from the speaker." Marrow yanked open a stall door and waved Hans in. "Go, Gunther-Hagen. We're on a schedule." He shoved Hans, who stumbled into a stall, bewildered. Marrow shut the door. There was a faint _click._

"Hey, what the-" Hans whipped around and pounded the wavy-door with his fists. There was no handle. "WHAT THE GODDAMNED HELL! _Let me outta here, you deceptive motha-fawking bastard!" _He could dimly see Marrow's bright orange decontamination-suit, standing outside the freaking wavy-glass door. "_LET ME OUT OF HERE!"_

Marrow's orange form moved away from view, and there was a faint _click_ as a neighboring stall shut tight.

Suddenly, the speakers switched on. "Step One: Remove primary orange suit." It was a recording of a woman's voice. Hans glared at the ceiling, trying to see where the voice was coming from. "F**** you," he hissed. There was a static-cackle, and the recording said:

"Place the suit on the metal hook labeled 'A'."

"F**** your *ss," Hans said. He banged on the door. "MARROW! YOU SON OF A B***CH!"

"Step Three: Remove all watches, jewelry, and valuable belongings. Place in the vaccuum-tube labeled 'B'."

"MARROW! LET ME OUT OF HERE, YOU GODDAMNED, INEBRIATED GERIATRIC!"

"Step Four..."

"MARROW!"

"Remove all clothing and place in the waterproof bin located beneath the bench. Seal tightly."

Hans glared at silver speaker set in the corner of the stall. "Like sh*t," he said.

"Anti-microbial wash will begin in one minute. Use the provided sponge to scrub all areas of the skin."

"Marrow, you f***ing bastard."

"The antimicrobial wash is a necessary aspect of decontamination cleaning. Skipping this step may lead to contamination of valuable equipment. Therefore, it is necessary that you-"

"This is freaking mother-f****ing ridiculous."

"-eight minutes. Additional antimicrobial washes are provided by-"

There was a loud screeching sound, and the translucent door abruptly opened. Standing there was a dark-cloaked figure, with a hooded head and severely hunched back. Its black-gloved hand rested on the doorframe, and Marrow stared at it through the plastic headgear. "What the f**** are you?" he said.

The thing shifted. "Zero-zero-eight-nine-five-two-seven-decimal-sixty-three-zee-four-two-eight," it said in a resonant monotone. "Compy with instructions. Security cannot be compromised."

Hans took a step back and crossed his arms. "Or what? I'm the Director of Viral and-"

"Comply. Comply. If you fail to comply, Iteration Seven will occur. Comply. Comply." The thing was getting more agitated. Its hooded head slowly rose, and two glinting red lights shone at him from the hooded depths.

Hans took a step back.

_What the hell...?_

"Say you will comply." The thing slowly straightened, filling the doorway.

Hans gulped for air.

"Say you will comply." There was the sound of long, oiled blades being unsheathed.

Hans staggered into the far wall. With a sudden _fwoosh,_ a foaming purple liquid burst from the shower head and doused his headgear, obscuring the creepy figure from view. _Dammit, _Hans thought, panicking. The antimicrobial spray poured over his suit and onto the floor.

"Initiating Iteration Seven. Attack Mode On. Final Warning... Say you will comply."

"I 'COMPLY', _**GODDAMNIT!**_" Hans bellowed. He slipped and fell foward, and ripped the headgear from his head.

Standing before him was the cloaked robot, wielding two large, sharpened blades. Its black-gloved hands gripped the blades tightly. It looked like a freaking Reaper of Death. As Hans stared, stupified, at its clawed, angular feet-and it had five- there was a slick whirring sound and the thing lowered itself back to its haunches. The cloak covered the feet again, and the blades disappeared into the folds of fabric.

The hood slipped off, revealing a silvery sphere for a head. Two shining pinkish 'eyes' were deeply set inside the sphere, looking like expensive camera lenses. A long, skinny 'neck' stretched into the main folds of the cloak.

The lenses extended outward and the thing twisted its head until it was upside-down.

"Follow the instructions. Security is monitoring you via microphone. Follow the instructions. Or suffer Iteration Seven in the future." With that, the thing shut the door.

There was a _click._

Hans got to his feet and stared. The black shape moved away.

"Step One: Remove primary orange suit." The recorded voice crackled over the speakers.

"Fawk," Hans said, fumbling for the zipper. "Fawk."


	17. Chapter 17

Yo peeps. This is NightSoaringAngel. I'm headed off to college soon, where I will be taking 19 science-heavy credits. Classes will take up most of my time, so I won't be uploading chapters that often.

Thank you for your support! I'll be back. 'Till then, Cheers!

~NightSoaringAngel


	18. Chapter 18

The subway shuddered and a foreboding feeling came over Max.

"What's wrong?" Fang asked, leaning into her. The lights in the traincar flickered briefly, and a confused muttering drifted through the packed space.

"I... I don't know... something's not right, Fang." A dread feeling spread through her stomach and froze her heart, making each breath painful.

The train car was jam-packed with individuals, some of them clinging to the handrails and others sitting side-by-side on the dingy benches. Across from her, an elderly woman snored beside a disgruntled-looking teenaged boy and a chattering girl on a cellphone.

_What is this feeling?_ Max had never felt anything like it before. The cold, clammy feeling that something bad was going to happen. And soon; very, _very_ soon.

She clutched Fang's arm.

"What?" he asked. He looked into her face and widened his eyes. "What's wrong, Max? Is everything..."

The lights flickered, and on a sudden impulse, Max leapt to her feet and stared at the adjoining carriage. "Oh my god."

Standing there, half-shrouded in shadow, was a tall, black-clothed figure with a long cloth hoodie and thin, silvery chains dangling from around its shoulders. The train rounded a corner and the figure shifted, struggling to keep its balance. It looked like it was standing between the carriages.

"What the hell is that," Fang said. He shoved past a weary-looking worker and made his way towards the window, nostrils flared.

The lights buzzed and popped. One of them went out, plunging the far side into weak shadow. " 'Ey, what the hell?" A man shouted and a gaggle of teens giggled.

Then the car plunged into darkness. "NOOOo!" "What's going on?" "Dear Lord!" Shouts rang through the air, mixing with the fear. Max's eyes widened as the subway rounded another curve, and people gasped and strained to stay on their feet. The train's motions seemed wilder without the lights. The nearby carriage still had its lights on, though, and Max could dimly make out Fang's silhouette. The figure outside was gone.

_Something very wrong is happening._ "What the hell!" "Where're all the goddamned _lights?_" "I'm suing the company!" _Fang. I have to get to Fang._ She shoved past the grumbling worker and a sweaty woman and grabbed Fang's arm. "Ssh," Fang said. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be listening.

A loud _**clank**_echoed through the metal roof. The car fell silent. "What was that, Mommy?" a little kid said.

Silence.

Then the traincar filled with screams.


	19. Chapter 19

Max gripped the rail tightly. Somewhere in the midst of this blackness, people were getting hurt. She gasped as a panicked passenger blindly bowled into her, knocking off her feet. The cushioned bench bit into her arm as she fell, sending a springing sensation of pain up her arm.

_Not again, _Max panicked. _Why do I get beat-up all the time?_

She hit the floor and landed on someone's foot, and they cursed loudly. The screams briefly died off, then resumed again, shriller than before. Her eardrums throbbed.

_Something is in here... Trapped here with us... _

The frightened child's shrieks hovered above the chaotic din, and was suddenly cut off.

_Oh god._ Max sprang to her feet and angrily pushed a man to the floor. She took a deep breath, then shouted, "EVERYONE! STOP MOVING AND _SHUT UP!"_ There was a brief lull and then the screaming started up again. "MY BABY! MY BABY!" a mother wailed. "NOO! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP MY BABY! MY-" Her voice suddenly died and there was a dull _thump_ as a person hit the floor.

_Oh god. What the hell is going on?_ The dread feeling seeped from her stomach to her limbs. Helpless... she felt so helpless...

Someone grabbed her arm, and Max swung a right hook. It connected with a hard, fleshy mass. "Aagh!" It was Fang. _Finally. _Max gripped his arm and hauled him towards her. "Fang!" She shouted. "We've got to make them shut up!" The screams increased in volume and there was another _thump._ "Fang!" He didn't seem to be able to hear her; the screaming was way too loud. What the hell was he doing? He seemed like he was still facing the carriage door...

Max squinted. A faint amount of light seeped into their car from the neighboring carriage, barely illuminating the frightened people of the car. She leaned towards Fang and yelled into his ear, _"WHAT IS IT? WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" _He turned and yelled something unintelligible. _"__**WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?" **_Fang grabbed her elbow and began to push her towards the bench, all while yelling something she couldn't understand. The screams continued, filling her mind with panic and terror. She couldn't think. She couldn't see. Fear. Pain. Horror. And noise, lots and lots of noise... There was another _thump._ A man bellowed with anger and there were cries of pain as he swung wildly at the people around him.

She stumbled against the bench and felt Fang forcefully lift her feet from the floor and stretch them out so they were lying on the bench. Then, before she knew it, he was yelling into her ear with all his might: _**"A SNAKE!THERE'SA**__**SNAKE**__**-**__**INTHETRAINCAR! STAYTHERE!" **_She felt him leave her side and she panickingly stood up on the bench, squinting at the packed crowd below in horror. Dull, shadowy shapes-flailing and shrilling in panick...

_Snakes. _She hated snakes...

...Tears welled up in her eyes.

_WHY THE HELL WERE THERE SNAKES ON THE SUBWAY CAR?_


	20. Chapter 20

The air spun, and the screams faded into the background.

_Snakes... she hated snakes..._

Her mind flashed back to the Incident...

_She was back in the School. The room was dimly-lit and walled with cement. Chains, cold, thick, dark chains; they were all around her, holding her hands and arms to the chair and preventing her from moving her feet. Chains. They were cold, and bit into the base of her neck. There was even a chain in her mouth; its metallic taste seeped into her mouth and made her want to gag, but she couldn't, it was too tight. She absolutely couldn't move. The Lab Coats. The goddamned Lab Coats...They did this...The Lab Coats did this..._

_... She'd woken up in this cruel wooden chair, chained and unable to move..._

_She reflected on her life. It was cruel, and dark, and pitiless, and full of hurt and pain and unending hunger. Hunger not just for food, but hunger for warmth and shelter and love. So she'd snapped, and fought the guards, and refused to complete the day's tests. The next thing she knew, she was awake and chained to this heavy wooden chair..._

_In front of her was a large window. Through it, she had a clear view of the Testing Room._

_The Testing Room? ...Why was she outside the Testing Room, looking in? ...If they wanted to torment her, she should be_ inside_ the Testing Room..._

_She squinted and peered at the room below, momentarily forgetting about the chains and the taste in her mouth. The door was opening._

_She saw who was entering and bit down on the chain, hard._

_It was Gazzy. His plump little-kid body was tied up in ropes, ropes all around his legs and arms and wrapped around his neck. He was awake, and crying. He was carried on a stretcher by two Lab Coats, each wearing a gas mask around their face. Right behind them were two more Lab Coats, carrying a tied-up Angel. Then two more, carrying a tight-roped Nudge..._

_All of them, little kids still, were crying and red-eyed and they couldn't move, and Max could see that they were in pain, and wanted to get the ropes off but couldn't. The Lab Coats set them down on the floor and left, and the door shut._

_Tears stung her eyes. **WHY THE HELL WERE THEY ****DOING**** THIS?**_

_She could almost hear their wimpers and moans. **WHY? WHY? WHY? **She furiously struggled against the metal links. The skin rubbed off her arms, her ankles, and she struggled harder. **WHY? WHY? WHY?...**_

_A hand rested on her shoulder. "This is punishment for your disobedience," the man's voice said. "You **will** listen to us. You **will** do everything we say... You **will, **you **will...**"_

_Tears, streaming. Her eyes felt hot. The Testing Room blurred..._

_Tears, falling, sparkling onto the chains and darkening her ratty brown shirt. Tears. She was sorry! She would listen! She'd do the tests, all of them, a** thousand times! Just leave the youngest Avians alone!**_

_She blinked, and her vision cleared, and the three young kids struggled and silently whimpered and cried._

_And Max helplessly watched. She could do nothing. Absolutely nothing... helpless, so goddamned helpless..._

_But she could close her eyes. They wanted her to look. They wanted her to. She must close her eyes, she must, she **must...**_

_She forced her eyes shut. The minutes ticked away. Still, her heart pounded against her ribs and a growing fear gnawed at her mind..._

_Something was happening..._

_Keep the eyes closed, she must keep her eyes closed... They want you to look...Eyes closed...This is just a test, just a test. Outwit them. Eyes closed, don't look, don't feel the pain...don't look don't look **DON'T LOOK...**_

_Then..._

_The microphone system clicked on, and Max totally lost it._

_Shrieks. Whimpers. Screams, shrill and long. Her eyes darted out of her head and she stared down at the Room below, where the three chubby, warm bodies of Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel were being bitten, over and over, by a multitude of swarming snakes, snakes, red and black and white, falling in through the ceiling, pouring through the crack under the door, writhing across their necks and faces and striking... striking... **striking, fangs into flesh, screams, torture...**_

_**Torture...**_

_**TORTURE...**_

_**THIS WAS TORTURE...**_

_**Screams. There were screams...**_

_Too many screams..._

...and they were filling the air...

Max snapped out of the terrifying flashback and stared, wide-eyed, at the floor of the subway.

Hoarse screams were coming from a middle-aged woman, huddled in a corner. She stamped frantically at the floor, wailing and shrieking. Then, with one last gasp, the woman clutched her neck and dropped dead with a _thump._

Max knew the woman was dead because her eyes remained open, gaping with the horror of her last moments. A silvery-blue, elegant snake flowed over her clothes in a ribbonlike movement, mouth stretched wide aggressively.

The entire subway floor was carpeted in corpses, stiff and motionless, eyes wide and mouths agape.

Max stood on the bench and stared. A silver-blue tail disappeared under the fallen body of the little child, partially covered by the body of its mom. Max stood, and stared, silently. The subway car creaked and swayed.

In the neighboring car, she could see people nonchallantly flirting, eating, reading books... going about their normal life. They hadn't even noticed the massacre.

Max clenched her fists.

She noticed movement up near the ceiling, and saw that it was Fang. He was suspending himself off the floor by holding onto the hand-rings. They shared a glance and he swung his feet, then quickly landed on the floor and bounded next to Max, landing next to her on the bench.

The train was silent. The hand rings swung gently on the ceiling. Both of them were silent.

With a sudden _crack,_ the door at the far end of the subway car opened. Looming there was the tall, black-cloaked figure they'd seen earlier. The tiny, decorative chains cascaded off the shoulders of the figure; its hooded head covered its face and hid its eyes from view.

Fang protectively stood in front of Max, shielding her from the menacing presence. The two of them swayed on the bench as the subway train rounded a curve. "You did this," Fang hissed.

As if in response, the figure paused and slowly, deliberately removed its hood.

He stood there, in the midst of the corpses, looking utterly and completely bored. He stared insolently at Fang. One of his eyes had an intense, silvery-white pupil; the other pupil was dark and black. He wore heavy black eyeliner and bright blue eyeshadow, giving him a sulky, brooding look, and his scraggly black hair cascaded around his pale, solemn face. His skin was almost completely white... With a shock, Max realized the man was eerily similar to Marilyn Manson.

Max stared. The icy feeling of fear stirred in the pit of her stomach. Danger... this man was dangerous...

And it wasn't just his unusual looks. There was something deeper, more sinister, that barely reached the surface. Something which stirred a deep instinct in Max. She knew Fang felt it too; his entire body hummed with tension.

The man's gaze shifted from Fang to Max. Their eyes met; he nodded at her, solemnly, then slowly strode to the opposite end of the carriage, scanning the floor. He walked with a smooth, fluid stride, with excellent posture.

It as as though he was performing a funeral march.

As he walked, the man cooly and effortlessly collected the silvery-blue snakes, whose tails and heads peeped out from the garments of the corpses. He'd reach down, do something with his fingers, and snatch the snake's head so it wouldn't bite. He placed the squirming reptiles somewhere inside his long, black trenchcoat. From a distance, the trenchcoat had looked like a cloak.

The silvery epaulettes on his shoulders gleamed. The man bent down and plucked another snake off the floor.

Nearby, Max felt Fang's body hum with tension. "Max," he whispered, barely perceptibly, "We're going out that door..." The open carriage door was invitingly wide. "On the count of th-"

"Don't go out the door." The pale-skinned and make-uped man didn't bother to turn around. He picked up another snake. "Itex will kill you if you do." His voice was low and monotonous.

Max felt a surge of anger. "_Who are you?_" she shrieked, leaning forward with fists clenched. _"How do you know about Itex?"_

The man paused, then slowly, creepily turned his head so he was looking over his shoulder. His expression seemed to say, "_Girlllllll_... you don't know what the hell you're talking about." The man's eyes dripped contempt, and he just stared at her like that, quietly. His single silvery pupil glowed in the light of the neighboring carriage.

Then he turned, reached down, and plucked up another snake.

Max fumed. Her eyes alighted on the child's body. Then she snapped.

**"YOU KILLED THESE PEOPLE!"** she screamed, and launched herself at the man.

Her wings remained trapped against her back, tightly folded under the cover of her baggy sweater. But she knew she was fast, even without her wings. She tackled the man from behind and they fell heavily to the floor. Then, right as she was about to punch the back of his neck _real hard_, she felt a piercing pain stab through her right hip. The jeans in that spot tore and a dull throbbing pounded through her hipbone as something sharp embedded itself in her flesh. The sharp thing rapidly withdrew, and Max felt a flood of warmth seep from her throbbing hip.

Simultaneously, there was a deafeningly loud _bang. _Fang bellowed in pain. There was another _bang,_ then a loud _thump_.

**"FA-A-AANG!**" She twisted around and slashed the side of the man's face with her fingernails; he was on his side right next to her, pointing a smoking gun further down the car. Max was shocked to find that his skin was waxy; several large, waxen flakes of it came off under her nails and fell to the floor.

Max shrieked and kicked out, hard. Her kick connected heavily at the man's side, and a strangled _hiss_ escaped from his trenchcoat. "NO!" the man snarled, and whipped around. His eyes were lit with a crazed, violent light.

Before she knew it, the man's weight was stretched across her somehow, completely immobilizing her. She couldn't move her legs, just her arms. She punched the man in the face with all her strength, then punched him again, and again, and again. His solemn eyes bored into her own, and he took the blows without wincing once. A trickle of blood flowed from a crack in his waxen lips. He smirked.

She started to tire. Seeing this, the man viciously sank his elbow into Max's neck, cutting off her breath; not completely, but just enough that all she could think about was getting air.

Then he leaned in close to her face, still smiling. Stars danced across Max's vision.

"Ahhh... the famous Maximum Ride," he breathed, gently caressing her cheek. His face was right next to hers. One glimmering pale eye, one dark, sullen eye... His gaze was almost hypnotic...

Max struggled in a breath and then lunged, her forehead striking the man on the chin. Then, exhausted and choking for air, her head fell back and she closed her eyes, gasping. The man caressed her cheek again, and let her have a little more breath. She opened her eyes.

Hate flowed through her veins. _She wanted to KILL this man..._

He caught the look in her eyes and sighed. It was full of sadness. "Maximum Ride. 'Fighter of the Century,' eh?" He stared down at her, solemnly, and shook his head. "How _sad, _that the Fighter of the Century escaped and never completed her training...How very, very _sad." _The man shook his head regretfully, and his black hair swayed with the motion. All the while, his hypnotic gaze stared her down.

"Ss-sth," Max hissed.

"What did you say?" The man asked mockingly, but let her have more air so she could talk, barely.

"Yssth, ye'r naugght taking ussth to-" She coughed.

"To Itex?" The man smiled again, but his smile completely lacked all warmth. "Is-is _that_ all you're worried about?" His eyes widened crazily.

Max gasped for breath.

He burst out laughing, a scratchy, cackling sound; it was harsh, dried-up mirth. "Heh, heh," he chuckled. "Itex has no time for small fry like you anymore, dearie. This is War. And, speaking of, I... technically do not have time for, eh, awkward... _flirting_." Max was icily aware of the man's body stretched across her own, and a burst of dizziness raced across her eyes, flooding her mind with pain. She couldn't... breathe...

The man sighed and patted her on the cheek. "Have a nice rest, dearie pie." He mockingly spat out the last two words. A sharp sting scraped across the side of her neck, then abruptly went numb.

The man got to his feet and brushed off his epaulettes, then mockingly saluted Max. "Ye put up a good fight, 'young soldier.' " Max noticed that one finger of each hand had a metallic claw accessory on it. _The stinging sensation... in her hip...and...neck..._

...Oh.

...Oh Sh*t.

Not again.

Max struggled to get to her feet.

She still couldn't move her legs. They were completely, _completely numb._

The man was walking away, strolling langorously to the open door at the carriage's end.

Max forced herself up on her elbows and struggled to flip herself on her side so she could get up.

Her legs felt like lead weights. She couldn't move them_ at all._

_Fang..._

She flipped herself on her side, then on her chest. Her back muscles were numb, and the numbness was spreading to her arms.

She had to hurry. She had to.

The man left. The carriage door creaked shut.

Max inched her way towards Fang's fallen body. He'd been shot in both shoulders. _Fang._

She reached him and reached for his sweater pocket. Fang's breath rasped in his throat. "Max... are you... alright..."

A mask of numbness stretched across Max's face. She couldn't speak. She focused entirely on reaching the phone.. the smartphone... from Vortex and... Dominic...

She found the phone and removed it from Fang's sweater pocket. Her neck felt extremely weak.

She rested her head on Fang's belly and struggled to dial the number.

She pushed the green button, then her energy completely gave way and her arms fell. She stared helplessly at the phone. After what seemed like hours, a tinny voice spoke. There was a pause, then the voice spoke again, and again, becoming increasingly frantic.

_Find us,_ Max thought as her eyes closed. _Please... please find us._

Then nothingness.


	21. Chapter 21

Institute of Technological Enhancement, Xenogene Project

Location: Barstow, California

15:48:25 MILITARY TIME

Hans Gunther-Hagen stared at the grains of wood in his desk.

The polished surface was stained with water-rings from his coffee mugs. To his left were diagrams of the metabolic pathways of the cholera bacterium. To his right was a photo of his wife, Kara, with him holding her around the waist. Even in that photo she had a thin, tight-lipped smile. _Always the stern one,_ Hans thought, and smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, then lit it and took a good, long pull.

_...This job is going to turn into a nightmare._

He'd toured the labs with Marrow and seen things he'd never imagined were possible. Chimerical beings, all of them. Some of them were very young; others were still in the one-cell stage. All of them were strange, and weird, and wonderful. The creepiest ones were the yearlings. Their wide eyes and speechless expressions had made him uncomfortably aware of how good his life actually was.

_Their life's purpose is to complete the tests. And then they die._

That was it; that's what Prof. Marrow had said.

There was something morally wrong about creating chimerical human beings. They could never fit in, could never be truly human; in the eyes of the experimenters, they were always an animal; just another experiment.

Microbiological organisms, in his mind, were much more morally acceptable. And Hans believed they had the capability for infecting huge numbers of the human populace; that made them an ideal biochemical weapon.

Hans tapped the desk with his index finger.

_...This job will become a nightmare. Starting next week..._

He was the Director of Viral and Microbiological Research. Just five hours ago, the Defense Department had sent him a direct order: Begin Mass Production.

That meant the United States was gearing up for war. With whom? And for what? Hans had no idea. It was probably political, maybe a fight over a rich oil field. He didn't know, and there was nothing he could do except follow orders. Mass Production... code word for 'Ready the Biological Weaponry'...

Hans stared at the metabolic pathway diagram on his desk.

There were five bacterial and viral strains that were at 'weapons-grade' status. BAC1145. DEHYDR008. MOSZA3... Herzan1... and...

Hans rubbed his temples and took a pull on his cigarette.

0038CYCLO-X. That stuff was _nasty, _even in his eyes.

Hans grunted and picked up the phone. 0038CYCLO-X was a last-ditch tactic. As an initial wave, BAC1145 would be the wisest choice. Get people up on their toes...

He glanced once again at the photo of Kara. _She must be busy as hell,_ Hans thought. His wife was the Communications Director of Itex. _...Won't be seeing her for a couple weeks. _

Hans stared at a coffee stain and sighed. Enough said. It was time to get to work.

He snubbed out the cigarette, then picked up the phone and dialed a number.

* * *

Institute of Technological Enhancement: Cybernetics Division

Location: Est de l'Oriente, Cuba

15:52:36 MILITARY TIME

"This is it, guys. This is totally it." Julio Escarde held up a plastic baggie pasted with labels. "This microchip could completely revolutionize conventional weaponry." Julio smiled at the small crowd below, then glanced down at the podium to check his notes.

Though his tan, brown-skinned exterior was calm and composed, his mind was clicking through thoughts at the speed of light. Less than fifteen hours ago, he'd received an order from the Department of Defense. "Get ready," they'd said, "We're sending representatives to your Division. Prepare a speech and present the... 'options'... to us. 3:00, your time, we'll be there. Get ready." And after that they'd hung up.

Julio turned a page of his notes and smiled at the crowd. "If you'd direct your attention to the big screen, ladies and gentlemen." The screen behind him flickered, and Julio addressed the crowd. "These microchips have been synthesized using state-of-the-art technology. Quite frankly, this technology has never been seen anywhere else. The core structure is composed of a latticework of carbon-based nanotubes set in an emulsion of hydrophillic, negative-pH solution. Laser-engraving techniques enabled us to interlace this layer with additional layers, set atop each other like sheaves of paper. And, if we zoom out like so..." Julio glanced back at the screen.

It was filled with the image of a stack of very thin, silvery sheets. Slowly then, the image began to zoom out, and the sheets began to look very, very small.

Julio grinned and turned back to the crowd. "The chip is small. Powerful. And structurally superior. It has a three-dimensional circuitry structure, giving it very high computing possibilities. And, better yet,. it can be linked to other devices through the use of nanowires, giving it endless application possibilities." Julio smiled and gestured to the screen. "Thus. A pinnacle of achievement, straight from the Logics Crew here at ITEC. I officially present to you the CUBA4 ultra-high-computing microchip device." He paused, and beamed a smile at the whispering crowd. _Now comes the tough part..._

Julio cleared his throat and ran a hand over his afro.

"Alright. Now... any questions about the chip?"

A stern, balding gentleman in a black suit raised his hand. "Yes!" Julio said.

The man stared him down. "Mr. Escarde." He paused.

"...Yes?" Julio asked.

"We already know the_ advantages _of the chip. Now how about covering the _disadvantages?"_ The balding gentleman frowned, crossed his arms, and leaned back into his chair.

Julio's smile widened. "Yes, the...eh... current issues." He closed his eyes, then exhaled slowly.

_This was going to be fun._

* * *

Institute of Technological Enhancement: Intelligence Division

Location: Deepnex Submarine, Pacific Ocean.

15:55:24 MILITARY TIME

_**"KEEP**_ your mouth **_SHUT_** until I _**ADDRESS YOU!"**_ Captain Jackie Peyguard slammed her fist onto the table, causing the coffee thermos to violently rock from side to side. She stared across the table at the motormouthed rookie CIA Officer, Franz Stoelen, the brilliant son-of-a-b**ch who just wouldn't shut the f*** up.

A fearful silence fell over the table. Jackie deliberately forced herself to take a deep breath, then exhale slowly. The burning anger in the pit of her stomach disappeared. _Okay. Good. ...Now I just feel damn f***ing annoyed._ She slowly lowered herself back to the seat and folded her hands together, then scrutinized the team of leading Officers and Commanders.

Jackie knew she cut a striking image to all the men present at the meeting. And she hated it. Every single goddamned day, she had to deal with disrespectful subordinates treating her like an object of attraction. She didn't know what the hell was the deal. She had extremely short-cropped blonde hair, yeah, and a sculpted, healthy, workout-induced face, but _why the f*** were these military men so goddamned disrespectful?_

Jackie glared at the group. Several were staring down at the table. All the guys were young, maybe in their mid-thirties to mid-twenties. That probably explained a lot, now that she thought about it. Endless months trapped inside the Deepnex Submarine, and there were only five women onboard. As opposed to thirty-one guys.

She flared her nostrils, then launched back into the briefing. "Alright. **_As_** I was saying, our Division's leaders have issued a command for this submarine. We are to destroy the Russian Seaband Radar Vessel located fifteen hundred kilometers north-northwest of this point." She habitually paused, and Officer Franz Stoelen immediately exclaimed, "It's _Russian?"_

Icy silence filled the air, interrupted by someone's strangled chuckle.

Jackie continued, completely ignoring the mortified Officer.

"Location of engagement will be at approximately thirty-eight degrees north, one-hundred forty-two degrees east. Go to your stations and follow my orders. You are dismissed." She rose, and the group of men rose after her. The did a simultaneous salute, then turned and filed out the door, single-file.

After the last man had left, Jackie cracked her knuckles and grabbed the coffee thermos, mentally calculating the time it would take to reach the Russian vessel. Three weeks, at the most. It would be a pain in the a**, navigating through the ice fields near that region. Heh.

_It figures. Deepnex is one of the top submarine technologies in the world. Damn right they'll send us on impossible missions._

_Heh heh...Bring it **on.**_

The Captain sternly left the room and walked down the wide hallway to the main control center.

Time to give orders.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

_Rain. Pouring down her back and trickling warmly between her wings. In front of her is a chiseled gate; made of stone and concrete and carven with lopsided initials. Beyond is a graveyard, choked with weeds, the grave marker slabs careening drunkenly across the broken landscape._

_The surrounding forest is dark with the gloom of the pouring rain. A lock of wet hair falls into her open mouth, and she spits it out. The rain tastes like ocean water..._

_Walking. Walking amongst the graves._

_The rain splashes in the muddy potholes of the broken path. Chunks of concrete jut out of the mud, scraping at her bare feet as she splashes across the path._

_Graves... there are graves everywhere, drowning in the salty water..._

_And they are everywhere..._

_Thunder booms, and a hand falls gently on her shoulder. She turns._

_It is Fang... his wet, dark bangs obscure his eyes, making him look like a solemn angel of death. He looms there in the half-gloom, not moving, not saying anything._

_Confusion... "What is it?" Her voice is weak and soft. "What is it, Fang?"_

_He looms there, bangs over his eyes. He says nothing. And just stands there, staring at her..._

_"What is it, Fang?"_

_Slowly, he raises an arm and points..._

_Off into the forest, dark and dripping water from the salty branches._

_"What is it, Fang?"_

_Pointing, finger outstretched in urgency. Something is there. Something horrible..._

_A prickle on the back of her spine. "Fang, tell me... what-"_

_Then, she sees it... She opens her mouth to scream... then..._

_A fierce crackling in the trees. Branches fizz and leap into the air, dancing in the bursts of light. A rumbling boom of thunder splits the sky with a shuddering bang, and Max turns from the forest to look at Fang but he's gone and not there anymore and where is he where is he where, where-_

_Where is he?... where... where..._

_Walking, splashing through the puddles on the path. The cracked, jutting concrete bites into the soles of her feet. Thunder booms again, and a flash of lightning lances across the sky._

_She stops walking. At her feet is the base of a cliff, where shattered pieces of metal litter the cracked, pitted stone._

_She looks down..._

_And far, far below, shifting black dunes crackle with hidden energy, sending strange bursts of light soaring up towards the heavy clouds. A faint flicker of memory stirs in the back of her mind. Then..._

Max awoke.

She was lying in a hospital bed that was closely surrounded by a thick white curtain. To her left came the sound of snoring; to her right, someone was violently coughing.

_Oh my god. Where the heck am I?_ She sat up and was shocked to see an IV drip line stuck in her arm. _Dang. How did this get here?_ She knew she wasn't in Itex. So where was Fang?

"Hello?" She called out. Silence, save for the coughing coming from behind the curtain, to her right.

There was a rustling sound, and a white-clothed nurse briskly pushed aside the curtain and strode in. "Are you alright, dearie?" the lady asked. She was middle-aged, with worry-wrinkles between her bushy eyebrows. A cough mask was tightly stretched across her mouth. "Well, dearie, you look like you're doing well! I'm going to do a brief examination, if that is okay." Max nodded.

The nurse felt Max's forehead, then peered into Max's mouth. "You're healthy," the nurse said, smiling behind the facial mask. "We're so glad. You came in as an ICU patient, you know. But now everything is fine." The nurse nodded at her, then quickly bustled towards the curtain. She looked like she was in a hurry to get away.

"Um...excuse me," Max said hesitantly.

The nurse turned, eyebrow raised. "Yes, dear?"

"Have you seen a... teenaged guy, black-haired, wearing a sweater..." The nurse's eyes visibly brightened. "Yes, certainly! He is actually one bed over. ...Would you like to see him?"

"Yes, please." Max's heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. _I'm so glad he's alive. ...This is the second time he's been shot..._

The nurse quickly opened the curtains, sliding them back along the railings. She did the same with the curtains around a nearby bed.

_Fang..._

Both of his upper arms were in casts, and he was asleep. The nurse nodded at Max again and started to slowly back away. A fearful expression hovered in her eyes. "Is that all, dearie?" the lady asked.

"Yes, thank you," Max said. The nurse left.

Max shifted her body so she was lying on her side, looking at Fang.

His face was an expression of calming tranquility. In the light of the fluorescent lamps, his luscious, deep black hair shone brightly. Max's eyes traced the curve of his cheekbone, the slope of his forehead, and the graceful arch of his nose. _He's beautiful,_ she thought. _You're beautiful, Fang._ Even after suffering such a traumatic experience, he looked healthy and fit.

_Itex must've done something right,_ she contemplated. She caught herself staring at Fang's muscly bare chest.

Max allowed herself to enjoy the sight for a few more seconds, then turned and stared up at the ceiling. _I hope the Flock's okay, _she worried.

They were out there, somewhere. She hoped Iggy was able to care for everyone, and act as the temporary leader. Iggy was brilliant, but his lack of eyesight was a significant disadvantage. Max hoped that Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel were strong enough to help Iggy out.

From further down the hallway came the sound of footsteps. Max ignored them and continued to stare up at the ceiling.

Then, suddenly...

"Do you think she's awake?" A young girl's voice, softly inquisitive.

_Oh. My. GOSHHHH! _Max abruply sat upright.

"_Is_ she awake yet?" A voice, lower than the other one, rough and cracking.

The nurse's voice answered, "Yes, she is. You can all see her now." There was a cheer, then...

_**"MAXXXX!"**_ The youngest members of the flock careened around the corner and raced into her arms.

She was hugging Nudge and Angel and Gazzy, and Iggy was towering above them, a wide grin stretching across his face. "_**YOU'RE SAFE!" **_Max shrieked. "I'm so glad I'm so so glad, oh my _gosh_ I am _so glad_ everyone's okay." Her face was wet with tears. Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy were all crying. "We missed you," Nudge said, nuzzling against Max's shoulder. They stayed there, just holding each other, and then Max patted them on the shoulders. "Iggy's turn," she said. "Aww," Angel said, and the three kids moved aside so Iggy could get through.

Max smiled up at Iggy's skinny, towering form. "Iggy, I am _so _glad you're back," Max said. "C'mere." The two of them hugged long and hard. "Did anything happen to you guys?" Max whispered so just Iggy could hear. "Nope," he said, grinning. They pulled apart and Max noticed that Iggy looked taller. _Wow. He's going to be an easy six-foot two, at least, _she thought laughingly. _Wow._

Nudge and Angel were looking at Fang on the neighboring bed, and Gazzy was staring around at the hospital surroundings. Iggy turned and felt around, then found Gazzy's shoulder. He turned back to Max.

"When you get time, we should talk," Iggy said softly. He stared sightlessly at a point right above Max's head. The smile was gone from his face.

"Sounds good," Max said. _Uh-oh. Something did happen._

Then Nudge started a happy little hum, and Max snapped back into reality.

_Everything's alright,_ she thought. She felt the happiest she'd been for weeks. _I am so glad everyone is alright. _Once they left the hospital, they could go find another abandoned farmhouse, stock up for winter, buy groceries, and settle down again, as a Flock...

Max sighed. _Dream on, Maximum Ride,_ she thought sadly, _dream on._

Deep down, she knew...

_Something's changed... something big. _..._How did they find us? ...Have they heard about the explosion?_

And, heck... how long had she been unconscious? And who the hell _was_ that guy on the Subway? And how did she get here...?

So many questions...

Max sighed. She'd figure things out eventually. And the Flock was safe….Right?


End file.
